


Never Asked for the Rainfall

by skullourful



Category: Lost
Genre: Claire is mourning, F/M, Playing House, dinner parties and drinking games, eventual ConMama, fLUFF CITY, life in otherton, lots of PB&J mentions, more worried about the characters than the mythology and sci-fi (not sorry bout it), season 4 but fluffy, the barracks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullourful/pseuds/skullourful
Summary: "It's kinda, uh, weird, right?" -- after the camp separates in 'The Beginning of the End', Locke's group adjust to life in the barracks with all of the creature comforts it offers.
Relationships: James "Sawyer" Ford/Claire Littleton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting here but far from my first Lost fanfic, I wrote so many back in the day (over a hundred!), but definitely fell out of the habit for a few years. I also stopped thinking about Lost, but the 10 year anniversary of the finale got it back in my mind and all of a sudden I had two attention-hogging ConMama plot bunnies. I am working on another chaptered story, ConMama, pre-island AU.  
> This fic does what I always wanted the show to do, focus on the characters. I started watching Lost for the characters and by the time I realised it was fantasy/sci-fi I was in too deep. It is going to be Fluff City as they do normal people things and spend time together and have lots of cute moments. It's less about the wild stuff happening on the island and more about how it affects the people. I'm not having a massive kill-fest like season 4 had, so don't worry about that.  
> As much as PB&J is my oxygen, I cannot resist ConMama, there is something about the dynamic that makes them so much fun to write.   
> I do not know how any chapters this will have, I just know that I have a lot of ideas and I'm having a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you have fun reading it.
> 
> Can you pick what song I stole the title for? (without using Google and cheating :P)

"It's kinda, uh, weird, right?" 

"The only thing making it weird, is you commenting on it every two seconds, Hugo."

"Nuh, it's weird. Back me up here Claire."

Claire paused, looking across the kitchen to where Hurley was seated, watching her expectantly. She had been keeping out of the conversation, which was an easy thing with him. Once he started on a tangent, he didn't often need contribution. He would talk until all of his ideas and feelings were out. 

She hadn't been closely paying attention to what her friend was saying, the majority of her focus had been on Aaron. He was sitting up in the three inches of water currently in the kitchen sink. He had been upset to begin with, but as the bath continued, the red splotches on his cheeks faded.

"It's definitely not not weird." She said, picking up his right foot to clean. "But I don't think it's a bad weird. I mean, look at Aaron, his first ever bath and he gets to sleep inside every single night. It's not what I expected but it's awesome."

Hurley had his arms folded atop the kitchen counter, his skin and clothes the cleanest she had seen them. But the new comforts of the abandoned barracks didn't appear to be offering him any relaxation.

He was yet to smile, not in the proper way she had gotten used to. His mind was somewhere else, perhaps back at the beach, or lost in the jungle.

"Yeah, I'm definitely happy for the little dude. But it's, what about everyone else?" He asked, he was speaking directly to her now. He had chosen to ignore his new roommate. "Doesn't it feel, like, bad to be enjoying this? Like what about Jin and Sun or Rose and Bernard? Or like Eko? He had an awful time on this island, only to wind up getting killed by the Monster, or whatever, and now we've got movies to watch and even freakin' popcorn to eat. Don't you think it's unfair to them?" He paused, looking at her in a way that half-prepared her for what he was going to say next. "What about Charlie? He died for us to just hang out in Gordie's house?"

With a groan, Sawyer walked over, clapping Hurley on the shoulder. "How 'bout you take a lap? Claire doesn't need you upsettin' her because you've got a case of survivors guilt."

"No, it's okay." She said and collected the pastel purple towel she had set aside earlier. She lifted Aaron out of the water, wrapping him in the fluffy fabric. "I get what you mean Hurley, but Charlie wouldn't want us to be too sad to function. At least, I don't think he would, he was always ready to make a joke and try to cheer me up. Being depressed isn't going to bring him or any of the others back."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Hurley said. "Sorry for bringing him up and-..."

"Please, I promise it's fine."

"If you wanna do something to, uh, mourn him, we can help out." Sawyer said, unable to meet her eye as he spoke.

"Guys, thank you, really. But it's okay, I'm gonna figure out how to mourn Charlie in my own way. Right now this is about us. Look where we are, look at all the food we have." She said, gently bouncing Aaron on her hip. "This moment, we don't have to hide or be freaked out. Why can't we just enjoy it?"

"Sounds like you've already got somethin' in mind Mamacita."

She smiled. "Look, I don't wanna brag, but I'm a great cook. We could have, like, a dinner party and sit around like normal people."

"You know, I've never been to a dinner party." Sawyer said.

"I don't know how surprised I am, dude. You don't exactly look like a dinner party kinda guy. For starters, you'd have to be, like, nice to people." Hurley said.

"We could get Jenny to come as well, and Alex and Danielle, oh and Karl, and Steve and John."

"No, not Locke." Sawyer said, suddenly serious.

Hurley grimaced momentarily. "Yeah, he's kinda gone off the deep end lately. He might, like, really kill the mood."

"He left us to run off with the Others and we got no clue what he was doing while he was out there." Sawyer said. "I'm not sayin' we gotta exile him from New Otherton here or anything. But I think we should try to keep the numbers of people getting tangled in his bizarro adventures into the jungle to a minimum."

"So what, we just don't tell him and hope he doesn't notice?" She asked.

"Whatever works for you. Right now, he's dangerous and the two of you don't need to be manipulated into any of his bullshit…"

"Why just me and Claire?"

Sawyer sighed, looking away briefly, as if worried of someone else hearing. "Maybe I just wanna look out for you because you're the most trustworthy of the bunch, or maybe I see you as allies and I think-..."

"Allies, do you mean, like, friends?"

Claire couldn't keep herself from chuckling a little. "Do you want me to make some matching bracelets we can all wear?"

"Should we come up with a secret handshake?" Hurley asked.

"Can we have cool codenames?"

"Yeah, but I wanna choose mine." Hurley said. "If you pick mine, it'll just be mean."

"Okay, but clearly I'm Elanie and Hurley's Kramer…"

"What the hell does that make me, George Costanza?" Sawyer asked.

"Well…"

"You lie a lot and so does George, no offence dude, just facts."

"If it'll make you feel better you could be Jerry, he was always popular with the ladies. Although your hair is infinitely less tragic."

"I'm switching alliances." Sawyer said.

"The whole alliance thing was your idea." Claire said.

"You two are gettin' your weird all over it." 

"I think you're just mad that you're not Kramer." Hurley said.

Sawyer opened his mouth, as always he was immediately ready with something else to say. But, in a sign of self-control she wasn't used to seeing on him, he paused and lifted his hands in defeat. "Whatever, just don't invite Locke. Try to exercise caution when you're around him because I'd hate to be the one sayin'  _ I told you so _ ."

"Okay." She wasn't certain if she would have time (or the desire) to seek Locke out at a later date.

She carried Aaron down the short hallway into the study, here she proceeded to wrap him in a nappy. He was in a good mood, putting up no struggle. It was almost as if he could tell how dramatically all of the risks to his life had decreased in such a short span of time.

Or maybe he was just enjoying hearing Sawyer's voice so consistently. There had been something in the sarcastic Southerner's voice that was the trick to calming Aaron down when he was mere days old. There was no reason to think that he'd already outgrown that quirk.

It was a relief for her to have voices to listen to. Her new house (formerly belonging to someone named Lloyd) was nice, filled with comfortable things and clean sheets. But it was too quiet.

She had spent the past two nights just 'crashing' on the foldout couch in Hurley and Sawyer's house, acting as if she hadn't meant for it to happen. She would find ways to keep herself busy then lament that she hadn't noticed how late it had become and stated she simply couldn't move Aaron now he was sleeping soundly. For the moment, her friends didn't see this as anything suspicious. They also didn't treat her presence as an inconvenience.

The silence within her house was unbearable. During the last few months on the island she had retrained her mind for survival, needing to be aware of all sounds at all times so as to not be caught off guard. Silence was what came before the life-threatening events. The creature comforts couldn't keep her from grinding her teeth as she waited for a  _ bang _ or a panicked shout.

But when she heard Sawyer's voice she could relax. She was not the same sitting duck who had been targeted by Ethan in the caves. Sawyer knew how to fight and never went far without a gun. His company was a security blanket and she knew nothing bad could happen to her while he was around.

"So Claire, you said you're a great cook…" Hurley had come into the doorway, ready to strike up a new conversation. "Who, like, taught you and stuff?"

"My aunt, she would take care of me sometimes on the weekends. Y'know, my mum worked a lot. So my aunt would teach me how to bake and together we'd make a nice dinner for my mum 'cause she'd be really tired by the time she got home."

She picked Aaron up and cleared her throat, surprised by the rise of emotion this memory caused. She had never thought the time would come when she would miss her overbearing aunt.

"Oh and there was that time I spent working in a very informative and competitive…" She paused, meeting his eye. "Fast food shop."

"No way, I worked in fast food." Hurley said. "I dunno if they have it in Australia, it's this place called Mr Cluck's Chicken Shack…"

"I can't say I've heard of it, maybe if I'd actually made it to the States. But there's no chance you've heard of where I worked. Fish 'n' Fry."

He paused. "That sounds… uh, nice. Lots of seafood and stuff in Australia…"

"Oh yeah, pride of the country." She said sarcastically.

"Hey dude, what about you, did you ever work in a gross fast food place? That's, like a rite of passage." He said, traveling back down the hall.

Sawyer's voice came from the lounge room, he sounded tense. "I am trying to read."

"We could have music playing, I saw some sweet records in the collection out there." Hurley said. "Some, like, grampa music, but definitely some worth listening to."

"We don't have to have it here, if you don't want." She took the freshly washed Aaron back into the lounge room. "We could have it at my house."

"Naw, we'll have it here." Sawyer said, smiling at her. "You're too nice hunny, you'll end up with guests hangin' around for too long and you won't know how to get 'em to leave."

"Cool, what should we make?"

She opened the double-door pantry, admiring the full shelves. "More like, what shouldn't we make?"

* * *

Claire rushed along the concrete pathway, recently-silenced egg timer in hand. She had to get back to her house before the biscuits in her oven could burn.

Because that was her primary objective now - baking cookies to share with her friends in a quaint little house as they pretended to be normal.

Less than a week ago she had been concerned with setting traps to blow people to pieces. She had been worrying about a thinning patch in the overhead tarp of her tent. She had been thinking about rescue (which, not for the first time, had seemed imminent) and how much Charlie might change once they were back to the 'real world'.

Now she was living in an imitation of that world. Living and making herself comfortable. 

There were times when she genuinely enjoyed herself and all of the horrors from the past few months faded away. If she focused in on one small thing (like biscuits) she could almost forget about the nightmares living beyond the peculiar sonar fence.

"Claire, there you are."

She paused, only a few steps from her front door. She turned around to where Locke was coming from across the courtyard. She smiled. "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm doin' just fine." He approached her with the casual air of a friend without any hidden agendas. "I didn't realise you and Aaron weren't home, I just wanted to drop by and see how the two of you were going, but…"

"Yeah, I've just been helping Sawyer go through the books in their house, seeing what stuff I wanna grab for myself." She said and she stepped up on to the front porch. "I just need to grab some biccies out of the oven, did you wanna come in?"

"Sure. You left Aaron with James?"

"Yeah, well he's asleep and Hurley's there too, so what's the worst that could happen?"

He waited on the other side of the kitchen counter, watching with a smile as she opened the oven. "Look at you, I had no idea you could bake."

She set the second tray down and took off the quilted mits. "I guess we've all got secrets."

"So what have you made here?"

"Anzac biscuits, an Australian classic." She said. "Have you had them before?"

"Wish I could say I had."

"I'll set some aside for you when they've cooled off."

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much. I'm sure this is a very difficult time for you and you've probably needed someone to talk to. I hope that you don't take my not being around as me not caring."

She smiled, finding herself wanting to believe him and fall into their old dynamic. He was someone she had relied upon and looked to for guidance.

But she thought of Sawyer's warning and Locke's increasingly erratic behaviour. The man she had bonded with, learnt from and gone to for help - that wasn't the same John Locke who stood before her.

Charlie would have approved of her exercising caution around Locke.

"It's okay, we're all having different experiences here. I know you've got a good heart." She said.

"It sure sounds good to hear you say that with such certainty." He said. "I want you to know that I'm gonna look out for you, you're not gonna be on your own now that Charlie is gone."

"Thank you John." She said, knowing he was near the bottom of the list of people she would go to in a crisis.

"I wanna help everyone settle in here and I figured, what better way to do that than with food, right?"

She nodded. "Makes sense to me."

"Great, I was gonna have everyone around to my house tonight and I'll make a great meal and we can all sit around and be a bit more like an island family again."

"Tonight? Uh…"

He chuckled incredulously. "Do you and Aaron have a previous engagement you need to tell me about?"

She dragged her bottom lip over her teeth thoughtfully. "Kinda, yeah. Hurley found out I've never seen the original Star Trek TV series, you know the really cheesy one? I guess Gordie was a fan. Anyway, he's got the whole thing on tape, literally every single episode. Hurley wants to do a marathon and Sawyer's trying to come up with a drinking game. It's a whole thing."

"Star Trek, huh?"

"Yeah, it's an education I didn't think I'd be getting. But another night, one hundred percent." She said. "I'll mention it to the guys tonight."

"Great. Well we'll just see how everyone's week pans out."

She nodded. "Totally."

Lying had worked, Locke left her house without asking any probing questions. Once alone she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. She had managed to pull random ideas together, creating a convincing tapestry and their plans were left unaffected.

She found a Tupperware container and selected a handful of the golden cookies. She would follow through on her offer to give them to Locke.

* * *

"You gotta dip it in the tea before you take a bite." Claire said, aware that not everyone at the table was listening to her. "Otherwise they're a bit firm."

"Aah! Did that dislodge my tooth?" Karl asked.

"I thought tea was a British thing." Sawyer said.

"Well Australia was colonised by the British." Alex said.

"Yeah dude, you sound uncultured when you say stuff like that." Hurley said.

The plates had been cleared from the dining table and the candles were close to burning out. Claire's heart felt fuller than it had for a while as she looked around at the faces of her companions.

Tonight felt like an accomplishment, an impressive feat they had tackled as a group. The dinner party had gone down without a hitch. None of the food had been burnt and no one had brought up any sensitive topics. The records Hurley had chosen from the '80's collection were pleasantly nostalgic.

Theirs was a guest list thrown together completely by chance, they shouldn't have had anything in common. But conversation hadn't been a struggle. 

The fragmented community hadn't felt so strange to be part of. A lot of time had been dedicated to marvelling over how little Alex and Karl knew about pop culture, the teenagers staring blankly back as Hurley named the most iconic movies he could think of. The look on his face when they said they'd never heard of The Simpsons made Claire think he would never recover. 'Calm down Comic Book Guy', Sawyer had commented and then Jenny started listing impactful bands.

The two sheltered kids had questions of their own. There were behaviours and social norms they had never encountered. These were ingrained into the crash survivors, things they didn't remember learning but had always known. Alex and Karl couldn't believe people really behaved 'that way' as they listened to stories of antagonistic neighbours and other things Claire hadn't been missing while living on the island.

She found she didn't miss Locke's company, it was a strange vibe that was absent from the room. It was like a suspiciously gray cloud in the sky, now gone with no threats of torrential rain remaining.

The company she missed was Charlie's. They had discussed cooking for each other, once they got off the island. He wanted to make her traditional British meals and she was going to introduce him to Australian treats, like lamingtons. Their favourite foods was a regular topic and he had recounted eating experiences with such enthusiasm, eyes alight. 

She had looked forward to cooking for him, picturing the kind of exaggerated response each different offering would draw out of him. There were so many plans the two of them had made. She needed to let that go, it wasn't something she could hope to accomplish any time soon even on her own.

There were times when she could clearly hear his voice in her head, she supposed she had gotten so used to listening to him. She imagined what he would be making of this situation, how he would contribute to the conversation.

She thought there would be more laughter if he were around. He would sit beside her and she would catch him looking at her, checking to see if she was laughing at the same things as him. Maybe he would reach over and brush her arm, making her feel butterflies.

She tried to not get carried away by this daydream, reminding herself to be present, with the friends that she did have.

“These are pretty good, but you know what would make them yummier? Some chocolate chips.” Karl said.

“Yeah-nah, I don’t think I’m gonna be committing a serious crime like that any time soon.” She said, earning a few laughs.

“I’ve finished my tea, I believe I’m going to go to bed.” Danielle said. “Thank you for having me and thank you for the food.”

“Thanks for coming.” Claire said.

The French woman had been mostly listening during the dinner, sitting very rigid in her seat. But she was polite and hadn’t let any of her food go to waste. She would listen with curiosity and fascination whenever Alex spoke, a smile pulling at her cheek as she watched her daughter. She hadn’t spent too long looking at Aaron nor had she made any comments that set Claire on edge. She didn’t see any reason to not invite the reclusive woman to another social gathering. Maybe Danielle would warm up and they would get to see more of her personality.

“I’ll come home soon, like half an hour.” Alex said as Danielle stood.

“Okay.” Danielle placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder, a long look suggesting she wished it were a hug.

"Goodnight Danielle." Hurley sang out as Danielle was leaving.

When the door shut everyone looked to Alex, who was looking at her mug of tea and curling a strand of hair behind her ear.

"She says she's going to bed but what she's really doing is sweeping the perimeter of the barracks for, like an hour. And she doesn't sleep, not for more than, like five hours, anyways." She said, looking around the table with an awkward smile. "But I've got a mom now."

"So when she's not sleeping, where is Karl sleeping?" Sawyer asked, a smirk on his face as he had another sip of beer.

Karl's innocent eyes grew wider while a blush rose in Alex's cheeks. "What? I'm still in my old house, it's right next to Claire's. I've always lived there, with my uncle."

Claire cleared her throat and stood up. "Anyone for a second cuppa, I'm gonna put the kettle on."

"You know what, I think it might be my bedtime too." Steve said before she could get too far.

"Yeah, I could go into a food coma right about now." Hurley said, leaning back in his chair.

Everyone started to shuffle their way away from the table and say their goodbyes. Jenny had been sitting with Aaron in her arms, cooing over him once the dinner was done. She gently handed the baby back to Claire, bidding them a good night. Vincent wagged his tail, excited by all of the movement and going to follow a few of the guests.

"Give me a couple of secs' to put him down and I can do the dishes."

"You're not doin' the dishes." Sawyer said as Hurley shut the door once the last guest was gone.

She shifted the weight of Aaron in her arms, following Sawyer into the kitchen. "Nah, it's fine, I don't mind. It's my mess so, really-..."

"Exactly, you cooked and baked, you don't have to clean as well. So go and sit down or I'll…"

"You'll what?" She asked, smiling.

"Just sit down Claire."

"Okay."

She sat down in the living room where Hurley was taking the record off of the turntable. She ran a hand over Aaron's butt, testing if his nappy needed to be changed. He was gurgling, she sensed he would be ready to go down for the night after a feeding.

"Hey, so that story you told Locke to, like, cover for us tonight. Was the part about Star Trek true, you've really never seen any of it?" Hurley asked and she shrugged her shoulders. "But it's a classic, like the definition of. It launched a huge franchise, it's filled with the most iconic characters and like, quotes that everyone rips off."

"Nah-yeah, I'm sure it's great. I've seen that other one, the one with the bald guy in the tight outfit."

"Yeah, that's The Next Generation, it's good but like, Patrick Stewart is no Shatner and Spock, you've gotta see Leonard Nimoy as Spock."

"So what you're saying is, you want to actually have a Star Trek marathon?" She asked, rocking back-and-forth on the couch.

"Well yeah, it'll be awesome. And it could be a good idea, y'know, just in case Locke ever asks you questions about the show." 

"Sure, that could be a fun night. But you should probably run it past your roommate first." She nodded her head toward the kitchen.

"Uh, right." He got to his feet and Vincent eagerly followed him out of the room.

She took this opportunity to remove herself from the communal area, Aaron already wriggling in her arms as she walked down the hall. She shut the door of the study and sat down on the couch.

The beginning of the baby's protests were silenced when she presented a nipple for him to suckle on. She leant back, relaxing into the couch. She allowed her eyes to drift shut as she thought back on the night, all of the compliments her cooking had received.

She left the room with Aaron leant against her front, attempting to bring a burp out of him. She followed the sound of Hurley and Sawyer's voices into the kitchen.

"A damn Star Trek marathon?" Sawyer asked. "Why are you encouraging this nerdiness?"

"C'mon dude, it's a classic and I've seen you reading The Shape of Things to Come since we got here, so I know you're into sci-fi." Hurley said.

"It's not like you have anything better to do." She said. "And you can definitely turn it into a drinking game, it'll be fun."

"Yeah, you can get super drunk. You can drink whenever Captain Kirk goes on a monologue or when there's an exterior shot of the Enterprise. Oh and when one of the random crew members in a red shirt dies."

"Remember when there was a hatch and we thought entering numbers into a computer would keep the world from ending?" Sawyer asked, drying his hands. "How did I get from there to here?"

Hurley laughed. "Dude, how did any of us get here?"

"Not tonight. All I wanna do is finish my beer and go to bed." Sawyer said. "Maybe I'll read more of my sci-fi book, maybe."

"I should head back to my place, get out of your hair." She said.

"You don't have to do that." He said. "Your little guy is already fallin' asleep, taking him on a walk will get him all unsettled again."

"Since when do you know so much about babies?" Hurley asked.

"Unless you're too good for the study." Sawyer said, ignoring Hurley.

"No, no, the study is just fine. Right, Aaron?"

"I can't remember the last time I went so long without talking to someone about rescue or like, death and the thing in the jungle." Hurley said. "Did we really talk about The Simpsons tonight? And like, at length?"

She chuckled. "We did, we really did."

"Awesome."

"Yeah, it was kinda nice. We might start talkin' about taxes and the latest celebrity breakup next." Sawyer said.

"It's weird. But good weird." Hurley said, smiling at her.

"Great weird." She said.

She wasn't sure what angle Sawyer was playing but she didn't question his insistence for her to stay any further. It was a relief to go back into the study and, once she was certain Aaron was asleep, she turned the light off without any hesitancy.

In her mind she recounted the night to Charlie, all of the things she would want him to know, all of the things she wanted to remember. What jokes would he make? What things had he noticed while she was distracted?

If she listened carefully enough, she could hear his voice again.

* * *

"I wanna watch that one." Claire said, pointing from the couch.

Sawyer was sitting on the floor in front of the television set, looking through the VHS covers lined up in the entertainment unit. "Wanna watch which one?"

“It’s right by your hand there, the one with the red cover.”

“A Star is Born?” He read out the title, lip curled in exaggerated disgust. “Hunny, no.”

“Barbra Streisand, she’s incredible and you can’t tell me any different, you heathen.”

“Well, well, well, look what we’ve got here, hidin’ out behind your chick flick…” He said, presenting a different tape to the group.

“Dude, is that porn?” Hurley asked.

“Has that been there this whole time?” She asked. “Ugh, I’m glad I didn’t look through those movies.”

The three of them were spending the morning lazing around Claire’s house. They had consumed the last of the coffee available in Gordie's old house, but there was still plenty in her pantry. 

She hadn't properly explored the single storey house, there was still some separation and trepidation, as if she didn't want to get to know the character of the environment. She had been holding the experience at arms length. 

Now there were surprises. Surprises that weren't threatening her life.

"Eighties porn, nice. Well I guess they gotta find a way to relax after all that kidnappin' and killin'."

"Yeah, it's kinda creepy though." Hurley said. "We don't know how many different people have owned that before it got here."

"I'm with Hurley, I'm gonna try to forget ever seeing it."

Aaron chose that moment to announce he was awake with a wail, immediately launching Claire to her feet. In the master bedroom, he was squirming and turning pinker. She went over to the basket that was standing in for a crib, seeing the wet tears on his round cheeks. She cooed as she picked him up, the smell of a nappy needing to be changed reaching her nostrils.

She carried him in to the bathroom, only half-listening to what was happening in the other room. Hurley was letting Vincent out to do his business.

She smiled to Aaron as she finished wiping him down with warm water. "There we go, all nice and clean now baby boy. Time for a new nappy, yeah? Yeah." Sometimes she caught herself talking like a Wiggle and felt goofy. When she realised Sawyer had come down the hall, she blushed. "I didn't used to be this lame, y'know."

"Can I ask you a question?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Sure.”

“What do you have against this house? You’ve slept here, what, twice?”

She could have come up with a cover. But that didn't seem necessary. “Okay, but you’re not allowed to make fun of me. I’m scared, like I’m a little kid who needs a nightlight. I guess I just got so used to bad shit happening so now I just lay awake at night and listen to every single noise and think about how totally defenseless I am. I can’t sleep, ‘cause I’m just scared, really scared. But when I’m at your place, it’s like okay, ‘cause I can hear that you and Hurley are relaxed, especially Hurley, ‘cause of his snoring, and then I know I can relax too. And I know no one will try anything while you’re around, Big Bad Wolf, with his big scary guns.”

“What’s got you so scared? Is it the French chick, is it Ben and his band of murderous misfits, is it Locke?”

“It isn’t anything specific like that. It’s just the feeling of doom that we’ve been living with for the past few months, I don’t know what’s coming but I know it’s gonna be bad and I’m not prepared and anything could happen to me…” She readjusted Aaron in her arms. “To us. And yeah, being on their  _ turf _ , I’m very aware of how we’re, like, living in their shadow right now. Ben doesn’t help matters, I don’t need to see him to be creeped out by him.”

“Yeah, ol’ bug eyes, he’s got a presence about him, huh?” He said, putting a hand on her arm. “But nothing is gonna happen to you, okay? He isn’t getting anywhere near you, I’ll make sure of it. And I don’t mind havin’ you around, only ‘cause the kid sleeps through the night. But living in fear, you can’t be doing that your whole life.”

“No, I know, I know. I’ll work on it, I swear.”

“Right but not tonight, ‘cause we’re havin’ your nerd marathon tonight.”

“Tonight? Right.”

* * *

Hurley's open-mouthed snore startled Claire, making her lurch forward on the couch. She placed a hand over her fluttering heart, laughing this dramatic moment off.

Sawyer smiled. "You get used to it."

"How did I never hear his snoring at the beach?" She asked. She didn't bother to whisper, knowing she would have to yell to wake him.

"Waves were drowning him out. It's a quiet life the Others had going." He said. "There's lots of things to notice here."

Hurley's head had lolled back to rest against the back of the armchair, his face turned away from the TV. Vincent had settled down by his feet, also sleeping peacefully.

There wasn't any need to turn the volume up, Hurley's snores couldn't compete. The TV had been dialled up for a couple of hours now, as a typical torrential downpour covered the island.

"I'm a doctor, not a…"

The rest of the actor's line was cut off when Sawyer groaned. "Can he stop saying that?" He threw back the last swig of his beer and got up. "You need anything from the kitchen?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks." She waved his offer away.

She looked back at the TV, she had lost track of what was going on, she couldn't grasp all of the exaggerated responses to the time traveller this episode was centred around. There was a crick in her neck and she took advantage of the space now available to her on the couch. She laid down on her side, stretching her legs out to where Sawyer had just been sitting.

He came back into the room with a new drink in hand, she had lost count of the beers he had already had and they were still in the first season. 

"I remember drinking games." She said, tucking her legs up as he returned to the couch.

"Don't curl yourself up in a little ball on my account, I'm sure your feet don't stink."

"Okay." She stretched her legs back out, placing them across his lap.

"You were saying, drinking games…"

"Yeah, I was such a mess, a complete lightweight. I was the type of girl who would pass out on the tables at the back of the club."

"Look, it's better to be the girl passed out for a while than the crying girl who goes around and tells everyone her life story in the bar. Or the girl who decides a public bar is the perfect place to have an argument with her man."

"Yeah-nah, I was never a weepy drunk." She said, taking note that Kirk was currently in the middle of a monologue. She didn't bring this up to Sawyer, saving him from this swig. "I was the kind of drunk who wanted to dance lots and, like, jumping on tables to dance. But then I'd hit a kinda wall and just, nope, all my energy was gone."

"Sounds like a good night out to me." He said. "Hey, look at that, another episode done."

"Yeah, just a million more to go."

He brought one hand down to rest on her calf in an effortlessly familiar way. "How long have we been watching for?"

"Um, since our plane crashed on the island." She joked.

They fell silent again, watching as one farfetched adventure gave way to another. He scoffed at the overly-choreographed fight scenes and she raised an eyebrow at the revealing costumes of the women.

There were times when she started to laugh and she checked to see if he was laughing too. More often than not, he was. They hadn't had much to laugh about, but the campiness of the show couldn't be denied. They were sharing cringes, a memory made.

"He sure gets a lot of action, huh? He's had more dates than I've had hot meals." She observed as Kirk made out with an attractive female alien.

Sawyer took a deep drink. "Yeah, he's falling in love every damn episode. I'm gonna be drinking a six pack just for his libido."

"I dunno if he's falling in  _ love _ …"

"Are you cold over there Barbie?"

She relaxed her arms that had been tightly pressed to her chest. "Maybe a little." The rainy night had brought a chill she hadn't been prepared for when she'd dressed in a tank top and cut off jeans.

He got up, collecting a blanket from one of the bedrooms. He was back and draping it over her body in time to see Kirk kissing another woman. "So enlighten me, Shatner, would you?"

"Would I what?"

He looked at her, smiling knowingly. Another of Hurley's snores filled the room before he answered. "You know, the ol' Devil's Tango."

She giggled then considered the bronzed leading man. "I can't say that I would. Nevermind the great job title he has. He has a lot of playboy energy too. Would you?"

"I could do better." He said. "And so could you."

He was draining another can of beer and her eyelids were feeling heavy. She had started to tune out Hurley's snores, no longer getting startled. The actors were singing, she couldn't figure out why they were singing.

Her blinks had started to take up more time and she was vaguely aware that she was drifting away. The whirr as the cassette tape reached its end and automatically rewound itself jolted her back into reality.

"Space hippies, huh?" He asked.

"Apparently so. Did you see that coming?" She wiped at her eyes.

"Nup, well I know you didn't 'cause your damn eyes were closed the whole time."

"I was just… resting them…"

"Oh, of course." He said sarcastically. "Go to bed cutie."

"You go to bed."

"I'm not tired and I wanna see how this pans out. Is there gonna be a mutiny, a pregnancy scare or have they been dead this whole time?"

"I think you're putting a bit too much faith in the writers." She said as he got up to change the tape.

When he returned to the couch she reached out and laid a hand on his bicep. There was a moment where they just stared at each other, silently recognising the shift happening between them.

She could have written it off, asked him to pass her a pillow.

Instead she curled her hand into a secure hold. "Could you, uhm, this is probably gonna sound dumb. But do you think you could, I dunno, hold me?"

She waited, feeling the beginnings of embarrassment creep in. She was stepping up to a line, considering crossing it into a territory where things would become blurry.

"You mean, like, spooning?"

"If it's weird, we don't have to. But I just thought it'd be, uh, nice."

"Okay, but I'm the little spoon." He said, the vinyl of the couch squeaking as he readjusted, moving closer.

"Okay, sure." She rolled her eyes.

He laid down behind her, propping his head up with his hand to look over her at the television. He slipped an arm around her middle and the security reminded her of a seatbelt. His body was warm and seemed to immediately fit perfectly against hers.

"What about Spock, would you?" He asked.

"To tango with? Uh, I dunno. The whole show has been setting him up as this cold, logical, robotic-type, he'd probably be really withdrawn in bed. I mean, if he even feels lust."

"Okay, so no knockin' boots with the Vulcan."

"Well, what about you? Would you with, whatsername, Uhura."

"Hmm, let me think about that for a-... Hell yeah I would. Those boots and her extremely practical uniform. Plus, she looks pretty bossy and I like a bossy woman." 

From then onwards, Lieutenant Commander Nyota was tagged as his girlfriend. Claire liked making him laugh, she could feel it against her body and it made her smile.

This kind of affection had been lacking for her lately. It didn't matter that it was platonic, it felt lovely. Her mind was set at ease and the feeling of safety reached down deeper than usual. She was reminded of the feeling of Aaron's little body in her arms after experiencing a nightmare of losing him.

She shut her eyes when the opening credits ushered in a new episode, intending to open them as soon as the music ended. But she didn't manage that, falling asleep to the rhythm of Hurley's snores, the smell of Dharma Initiative beer filling her nostrils.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locke hosts a dinner party with the camp, revealing his plan for what's to come next. But the rest of the group aren't sold on this decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so I really thought I was done with LOST, but here I am, working on three (soon to be four) fics at once. I guess the island isn't done with me yet *oooOoOOOO*  
> Kate's starsign is canon, Sawyer's was something I had to take a guess at, but I feel pretty good about him being a Pisces, he has a lot of the traits for it.  
> Obligatory Scott-Steve joke? Check!

The light knocking on timber slowly roused Claire from her slumber, giving her time to come back into her body and assess the room. The living room was filled with morning light, reflecting off of the curved television screen. There was a weight on her body, warm and comforting, encouraging her to stay asleep.

It was Sawyer. They had both fallen asleep on the couch, unable to make it to the end of the Star Trek marathon. His face was pressed into her neck, the stubble on his face tickling her bare skin. His strong arm was still around her middle and some time during the night her fingers had interlaced with his.

She grasped to reality as the knocking continued, pushing herself up. Hurley was still asleep, but his snores were overshadowed when Aaron started crying. She pushed herself to her feet as Sawyer stirred on the couch.

She didn't pause to consider who might be at the door, she had to get to her hungry son. She picked him up, making shushing sounds as she found a spot to sit down.

“James, I’m sorry, were you asleep?” It was Locke’s voice.

“Yeah, we kinda stayed up, partyin’ a bit too late, I guess.” Sawyer asked, the house very quiet now that Hurley was no longer snoring. “How can I help you?”

“I wanted to invite you, and Hugo, of course…”

“Hey Locke.”

“I’m making a big dinner tonight and I wanna get everyone together so we can have a talk, get everything out into the open. We need to come together as a group and decide what we’re gonna do next. No more secrets.”

“Well gee, doesn’t that sound just darling? Do you need me to bring a dessert?” Sawyer asked sarcastically.

“Is, uh, Ben gonna be there?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to cover and Ben’s a big part of that.” Locke said.

Top readjusted, Claire held Aaron to her chest, walking down the hall. She stayed out of sight, just listening as she tried to sort out what to think of this offer.

“What if I don’t wanna have dinner with Benny boy?” Sawyer asked.

“You’re definitely gonna wanna hear what he has to say.”

“What are you making?” Hurley asked, his tone the polar opposite of Sawyer’s.

“Roast chicken and all of the fixings.”

“Sweet. What time do you want us there?” Hurley asked.

“Around six.”

Once the door was shut, she stepped out into the open. Aaron was gurgling happily as she gently rocked him. “So, I guess dinner parties are the _in_ thing now, huh?”

“I guess I’ll go lay out my Sunday best.”

Hurley was fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Are we gonna have to, like, make small talk with Ben?”

“He’s not expecting Danielle to come, is he?”

“What are we gonna talk about with Ben? _Hey, so like, remember how you sent, like, all your, uh, employees to come and kill us, that was crazy, huh_?”

She shuddered. “God, my skin is crawling just at the thought of having to sit in the same room as him.”

“I mean, if Ben even wants to talk, he’s pretty good at staying silent when we need, like, actual information from him.”

"Guys, relax." Sawyer said and they had no reason to question his authority, both falling silent. "It's just a dinner, all we gotta do is go in there with our eyes and ears open and not let Locke talk us into anything and definitely don't believe a single word Ben says. And then you know what we can do? Come back here and have an actual honest conversation about what we heard and figure out our next move, together. Locke can say whatever he wants and then we can figure out what's actually being said."

"Sounds like stuff my girl friends and I would do at school. Hang out with a chick and then talk shit behind her back." She said.

"Does that make us the mean girls?" Hurley asked.

She nodded her head in Sawyer's direction. "Well…"

"If not wanting to hang out with Ben makes me a Heather, then hey…" He shrugged his shoulders. "Call me Heather."

Hurley looked at Claire, but she blinked back at him, Aaron's gurgles filling the pause. "Dude, who?"

"Heathers, Winona Ryder, Shannen Doherty, mean girls in high school and they start murdering each other and everyone they hate." Sawyer said. "You've never… Neither of you have seen it? See, this is what happens when you're too busy watching nerdy stuff. You miss watching hilarious movies like that. Forget you dweebs, I'm gonna shower."

"Dweebs." Hurley repeated as Sawyer left.

"Yeah, damn, tad harsh." She said, bouncing Aaron. "Well, I should probably get back to mine so I can wash up too."

"See ya tonight."

"C'mon Vincent, let's get you some breakfast, huh?"

The labrador happily followed her out into the courtyard, Aaron curiously looking around. The rain had passed during the night (as it always seemed to do) and for the moment the sky was clear. She waved to Jenny, who was out in her own backyard, hanging out dripping washing.

Claire opened the front door, but hesitated. Vincent wasn’t affected by the same paranoia and trotted across the threshold, immediately going to his empty food bowl. He didn’t perk up his ears or bark, only then did she feel safe enough to enter the house. She flicked on the closest light switch, despite how sun-filled the room already was. She held her breath, hands holding Aaron tighter as she walked in. Her ears were straining to hear hints of an intruder, knowing there were hiding places in this house that she hadn’t seen yet.

She didn’t put her baby down straight away - to protect him, but also she was clinging to him as a security blanket. She walked into the kitchen, flicking on every switch that she passed. With Aaron resting on her hip, she used one hand to grab the jar of rabbit food. The Dharma Initiative was used to accomodating for bunnies, but not dogs. Vincent didn’t seem to mind the small pellets, eating them as enthusiastically as he would a hunk of boar. 

She unclenched her fists and felt secure enough to move through the rest of the house. She made her way into the bathroom, still turning on lights as she went, needing all shadows to be gone.

“What d’ya think, do you wanna have a bath with Mummy? Mummy could use a bath. How does that sound?” She shut the door and clicked shut the flimsy lock. “ _Bath_.” She drew the word out, even though he was far off from saying his first word. But it was a nice thought, something to look forward to.

*

The dinner party was off to a far less enjoyable start, the air in Locke's house feeling frigid, quite unlike the humid island climate. Conversation was stilted with no hints of laughter. It seemed everyone was on edge, looking around like caged animals.

Claire found herself pacing by the window closest to the door, holding Aaron close. The baby didn't require any soothing at the moment, he was asleep and oblivious. But she couldn't keep herself still, it was difficult to keep herself from setting out the door, leaving this entire scene behind. She remembered those days on the beach when something of significance had been unfolding but she would have to wait to find out exactly what was happening later, when it was over. Charlie had often expressed frustration, but she thought being left out was preferable to having to spend time with Ben.

Locke didn't show any hints of noticing how uncomfortable his guests were. He was smiling, circulating amongst the group and making smalltalk. She forced a couple of smiles when he approached then lied, blaming a headache for her low mood.

Everyone was keeping their distance from Ben. Alex hadn't gone over to greet him. Even the most sympathetic and friendly of the community, Hurley didn't feel compelled to show Ben any kindness.

Claire felt herself bristling whenever she looked over at him. It was never a conscious decision to look at the battered man, more of a compulsion. She thought on her fragmented memories of her capture, Ethan doing as Ben had commanded, intending to steal her child from her.

She remembered the story Sawyer had shared with her a couple of nights ago, Ben tricking him into thinking his death was imminent. A lie about a pacemaker that would explode if Sawyer's heart rate went above 140 beats per minute. Ben had made Sawyer a prisoner in his own body. It made Claire nervous, wondering what he was currently scheming.

Watching Locke interacting with Ben confused her. It was beyond her comprehension how John could choose to spend time with a man who had shot and left him for dead.

She longed for the guidance of the justice system, which Ben had removed himself from, making his own rules. He wasn't being held responsible for the crimes he was committing and so the lives he took (or attempted to) meant nothing. They were all just pawns in his game and she was sick over the possibilities of what he could do next.

She hated him like she had never hated anyone before in her life. Not Thomas as he'd walked out on her. Not even her father. She didn't need to talk the situation out with Hurley and Sawyer later, she already knew Ben's words were poisonous and shouldn't be entertained in the slightest.

Sawyer wasn't attempting to hide his discomfort, visibly scowling as he also paced around the living room of Ben's home. He would approach her and they would grumble their shared, continuing distaste.

Locke beamed at the sound of an oven timer buzzing. "Hey, let me check on that, but it might be ready to eat." There were polite murmurs, people smiling. Meanwhile Sawyer rolled his eyes to her, she wasn't anticipating having much appetite.

She noticed Danielle was standing with her back to the group, staring up at a collection of photos of Alex on the wall. She was wearing something other than her brown, fraying set, no longer a cartoon character wearing only one outfit for all time.

"She's a gorgeous kid." Claire commented, sidling up to Danielle.

The smile on her face was uneasy, a habit she wasn't practised in. "Yes, she looks a lot like her father. Her real father, Robert." She had started to rub her shoulder.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Not exactly. It's, uh, it's silly."

"Promise I won't laugh."

"I hurt my shoulder, brushing my hair. It didn't used to be a problem, I hadn't noticed how long it has gotten." She said, picking up and considering the ends of her hair. "I pulled a muscle trying to brush to the end of it, it's longer than my reach. I should cut it, but…"

"No, no, I get it. It's more than hair sometimes. But I could help, I'm great at haircuts and we only have to take a bit off, however much you're comfortable with." Claire said.

Danielle looked her in the eye, but it wasn't with suspicion, she wasn't trying to figure out the level of threat Claire currently posed. There was a softness. "That would be lovely. But I would need to pay you a favour back."

"Uh-uh, you've done more than enough for me. You and your daughter… You're the reason me and my son are alive. Literally the least I could do is give you a haircut."

"Thank you."

"That scratch I left you with is gone, now let me help you with your hair."

"Alright."

"Hey sunshine…" Sawyer had approached, Danielle momentarily hardening again. "John is gettin' ready to serve up."

Claire readjusted her hold of Aaron. "Goodie, shall we…?"

"Gotta move fast if you don't wanna end up in a seat next to Ben." Sawyer said.

"I'd rather starve slowly to death." Danielle said, before turning and taking slow, measured steps over to the dining table.

Claire released her bottom lip from between her teeth when Danielle was a safe distance away, laughing quietly. She hadn’t wanted the French woman to mistake the gesture as at her expense.

"Cold blooded." He admired. "You gonna put the kid down? I can find something for him to sleep in."

"Oh no." Claire said. "I'm not letting my guard down around that monster for a second. Aaron isn't leaving my sight."

"Do you want me to hold him, give your muscles a break?" He asked.

She considered him for a beat. "I thought you said you didn't know how to hold babies."

"Hey, I can-..."

"Uh, dudes." Hurley had appeared alongside them. "Is this a real thing, we're just, like, eating dinner with Ben?"

Instead of answering, Sawyer walked forward, addressing Locke. "John, when are we gettin' down to business here?"

Locke looked up from serving up food to an uncomfortable looking Steve. "I'm dishing up now."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." Sawyer said, the whole room seeming to pause to listen to him. "I'm talking about him, the kidnappin', murderous twerp."

Ben's eyebrows shot up. "Murderous? You wanna go tell the kettle in the kitchen that it's black next James?"

"Do you really think we're gonna eat with him?" Claire asked, looking exclusively at Locke. "Just have dinner, like everything is peachy keen?"

"Well I'm confused." He said, laying down the spoon he had been using to serve out portions of mashed potato. "I never hid that Ben was going to be here…" He looked around at his captive audience. "I said we'd be having dinner, with Ben. If you don't feel comfortable eating with him, why didn't you tell me sooner? I would've cooked less food."

"We came because we're sick of secrets and we wanted to have a say in what happens to us, like who lives amongst us." Claire said.

Alex was playing with the spikes of her fork, keeping her eyes low, slightly turned away from where Ben sat. Most of the group were looking away, perhaps they hadn’t been anticipating a confrontation.

“We are going to talk about all of that. It was never my intention to mislead anybody. But I thought, first off, we could have a civilised dinner. Eat together, like a big family.” Locke said and he sat down at the head of the table.

“Lots of families have arguments over dinner, they get together and air out all of their grievances.” Claire said.

“Yeah dude, I come from, like, a broken home and my parents would always yell at each other at the dinner table, my brother and me, too… But it wasn’t just at the dinner table. Uh, my family is pretty screwed up.” Hurley said.

“Just like this one.” Sawyer said.

“I’m open to conversation, you all have every right to be heard.” Locke said, filled with false-patience. “But please, sit down. There’s no need to yell at one another, let’s make it a civilised conversation.”

Danielle had already taken a seat beside her daughter and a few others took up some of the empty chairs. Filled with hesitancy and uncertainty, Hurley began towards the table. Claire looked to Sawyer, his jaw set and looking ready to say more. She was ready to back him up, there were plenty of things she still needed to vent. Locke wasn’t going to talk his way out of this, not if she could help it.

When Sawyer looked at her he sighed, deflating a little. He shrugged and gestured to the table, they walked over together. Locke was apologising over the low supply of vegetables as she sat down opposite Hurley, Danielle at her side and Sawyer taking the spot on her other side.

“Should we say grace first or…?” He asked.

“Where is Miles? The prisoner you traded for, is he still alive?” Claire asked.

“Miles is just fine, he could use an attitude adjustment, but he is alive and well.” Locke said. “He’s downstairs, locked up because I don’t know if we should trust him yet. But, to his credit, he was willing to answer some questions and now we know exactly why he’s here.”

“They’re here for Ben, we’ve known that for, like ever now.” Hurley said.

“Well that’s right. And Miles was kind enough to confirm that for us.”

“Fantastic, so glad we got the second opinion. How soon do we turn him over or do we wait for them to come to us and knock on our doors?” Sawyer asked, dishing mashed potato onto Claire’s plate before filling his own.

“We can’t turn him over.” Locke said.

“And why the Hell not?” Sawyer asked.

Ben cleared his throat, he looked far too comfortable for her liking. He was back in his home, without any restraints. He almost looked bored of the conversation. “Because once they have me, their orders are to kill everyone else on the island.”

A stunned silence fell over the table, it was a rude reminder that they were still on this hostile island. They had indoor plumbing and mattresses to sleep on again, but they were still in the middle of nowhere, their vulnerability only slightly lessening. The nightmare wasn’t over.

“What are you saying Locke, are you gonna protect him and expect us to do the same, like he’s one of us? He tried to kill you.” Claire said.

“Yeah and he won’t even tell us who his spy on the boat is.” Hurley said.

“It’s Michael.”

“What?”

“My spy on the freighter is Michael.” Ben said.

“I’m sorry. You mean the same guy that killed two women in cold blood to set that creepy bastard free? And then sold all of us out so he could get off the island? That Michael?” Sawyer asked.

“Yes James, that Michael.” Locke said with a sigh.

Claire felt her mouth fall open. “Michael.”

Hurley had stopped eating. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“So Michael’s alive, so what?” Sawyer said. “How does that help us with the hired goons also on the freighter?”

Locke looked at Ben, who took a sip of wine before answering. “Because I equipped him with a bomb, a bomb that he can detonate to kill everyone on the freighter and eliminate them as a threat.”

“Oh my God…” Claire put her chin down to her chest, shutting her eyes. More bloodshed. 

She tried to remember what it had been like before Charlie had written out the words _not Penny’s boat_. The rest of the group were quiet, there wasn’t anything to say in the face of such a terrible revelation. The loudest sound in the room was Vincent, sloppily drinking up some water.

“And Michael is going to help you, because…?” Sawyer asked.

“Guilt is a very, very powerful emotion, James, the kind that a person would do just about anything to be rid of.” Ben said. “Michael hasn’t been living a blissful life off the island with Walt, he’s destroyed over the things he did, the lives he took and ruined.”

Hurley was looking down at a hunk of chicken meat he was pushing around his plate, without any real interest. “Maybe he should be…”

“He thinks that by saving the lives of everyone here and protecting the island from being discovered and exploited, he can, I suppose, atone for those actions.” Ben said.

“Michael is not the enemy here.” Locke said as Claire met Hurley’s eye across the table. “He’s back on our side, his interest is to protect the island, just like ours is, just like Charlie’s was.” 

"Protecting the island isn't my top priority, I'm more interested in how I can protect myself." Sawyer said. "And I'm sure it's the same for these nice people we're breaking bread with tonight."

"Well, yeah…" Hurley said, somewhat reluctantly. 

"As much as I never thought I'd say this, I agree with Sawyer."

"Thanks Scotty."

Steve immediately frowned. "Steve."

"Scott died, dude."

"Yeah, one of _his_ people killed him, murdered him." Claire said, glaring at Ben.

"You haven't answered her question yet, John." Sawyer said. "Are you gonna protect Ben and have us welcome him with open arms?"

"No, I'm not that naive. I know that just because I don't mind Ben being around doesn't mean you will all feel the same way. But you won't have to worry about him for long. Or Miles, he'll be released soon enough. Before Ben and I leave."

"Leave?" Alex repeated, looking to her father.

"We're going to meet up with the rest of our people."

"You're gonna go off and join the Others?" Sawyer asked.

"The Others want you? They're not just drawing you out so that they can kill you or whatever? Like they've already killed so many of us." Claire said.

Locke shook his head, looking a little amused. "They're not gonna kill me. Ben already tried that and now he knows that Jacob won't let me die, not yet at-..."

Karl scoffed, muttering under his breath. "Jacob."

"I don't know how you all feel about it, but this place is special. We weren't brought here because of a coincidental plane crash, we were brought here for a reason, for a purpose, for our destinies…"

"Destiny, huh? Well, let the church say _amen_." Sawyer said.

Looking at Locke, hearing his tone of voice - Claire could tell he was serious. She remembered the psychic, how clear his vision must have been to put her on the plane, keeping she and Aaron together. 

Destiny and purpose were a much better way of looking at this experience than unlucky or doomed. But she wasn't yet ready to believe in Jacob, whoever or whatever he was. Her faith remained with the people she had spent the past few months with.

Aaron had begun to shift in her lap, suggesting he was ready to wake up. She brought him in closer, part of her hoping he would stir, giving her the perfect excuse to leave.

"I don't know what comes next for me but I know Jacob can tell me so Ben is going to take me to a place he and the rest of our people call the Temple."

As Locke continued talking, Sawyer caught her eye. She wondered if he was noticing how Locke had stopped referring to Ben's flock as 'the Others'.

"Any of you are welcome to come with us, I'm not here to tell you where you can and can't go."

No one said anything back. She chalked this up to Jacob's identity being as blurry to them as it was to her.

"I promise I won't take it personally. We're all on our own paths here."

"Uh, you're not gonna, like, remember who didn't come and kill us first, right?" Hurley asked.

"No one wants to kill you Hugo." Ben said. "None of you. Jacob brought you here for a reason, there would be no sense in killing you…"

Aaron had begun to cry and her heart leapt, she stood up, excusing herself with an apologetic smile. She said she would need to get him home to put him down for the night after this feeding and no one tried to stop her. The food on her plate was entirely untouched. Looking around the rest of the room, only Karl and Ben had cleared their plates so far.

"C'mon Vincent." The dog heeled to her immediately.

"Hey, wait up Claire, I'll walk you home." Hurley was so desperate to get up that he almost tripped over the chair. "Uh, thanks for dinner and stuff Locke."

She lingered long enough for him to catch up, then opened the door and headed out without looking back once. She felt tense, the anxiety built up during the course of the night yet to leave her.

"That was, like, scary beyond all reason." He said, over the sound of Aaron's cranky wails. "I know you don't need someone to walk you home, I just really needed to get out of there."

"Yeah, me too. But I'm glad you came with me, now I don't have to sit in there on my own."

*

"Hey kids." Sawyer said when he arrived to her home almost two hours later, letting himself in. He was alone.

Claire grabbed a hair elastic, emerging from the bathroom. She tied off the braid she had been fiddling with. She returned to the living room where Hurley was playing a James Brown record quietly. 

"Hey dude, how much Jacob gibberish did we miss?"

"Hurley, that's not the right question. What did he give you for dessert?" She said, trying to mask her anxiety.

"Locke's leavin' and we're gonna let him." Sawyer said and flopped down onto the couch beside Hurley.

"Did anybody agree to go with him?" She asked.

"Nup."

"Good because we can't- we can't let anyone go with him."

"I know. I figure tomorrow the three of us go around and talk to everyone and make sure they've still got their feet planted firmly on the ground." Sawyer said. "Nobody's converting to the Church of Jacob, not if I can help it."

"Cool, I'm in." Hurley said.

She had taken the tie off and quickly worked her fingers, plaiting the length of hair she hadn't gotten time for before. Her mind was racing. Even with Locke taking Ben, there were still problems that needed solutions. Big problems.

The needle reached the inside of the record, falling silent. Hurley got up, removing the needle and returning the record to its sleeve. Claire reached the end of her hair and secured this lengthened braid in place.

She sat down on the arm of the sofa next to Sawyer. "Can I braid your hair?"

"You what now? After that should we paint each other's toe nails and take our sleeping bags out back so we can pick out the stars together?"

"I'm anxious and I need to do something to keep my hands busy."

"Ooh, do my hair." Hurley said excitedly. "My brother dated this chick for a while and she was in, like, hairdresser school, so she'd practice hair washing and stuff. She'd give us awesome scalp massages, it was a great five months."

She crawled across Sawyer's lap, sitting down on the couch cushion next to him. She placed a pillow on the ground in front of her, which Vincent sniffed at before Hurley had the chance to sit.

"This is a very manly moment for you Hugo." Sawyer said as she started to rake her fingers through Hurley's hair, freeing up any tangles amongst the curls.

"Whatever dude, it's relaxing."

"What do we do about Michael?" She asked, sectioning the hair along Hurley's middle part.

“Right, Mike.”

“Do you really believe that it’s him?” Hurley asked.

“I guess I hadn’t stopped to think they would be lying about that, I was too busy tryin’ to keep track of all of their other lies.”

“What could they gain from lying about that?” She asked.

“I dunno, but it just makes like, no sense to me.” Hurley said and turned to Sawyer, breaking the momentum she had been building. “You were there that day on the dock, dude and you were also there when he admitted he’d killed Libby and Ana-Lucia. He was like a totally different guy that day, like not the one we’d played golf with. He, like, broke and lost his grip on reality.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “All he cared about was getting Walt back and he would do literally anything to get him back. He tried to get us to understand that day, but I couldn’t. I guess it’s a paternal thing and I kinda made peace with it. He did what he had to do to get his family back. He went about it in a shitty way but whatever, who am I to judge? But now he’s left Walt, just like that? Why would he throw away everything he’d worked so hard for? Do you think he, like, sold his soul to Ben or something?”

“Nobody’s selling their souls Hugo.” Sawyer said, his eyes downcast and his voice low.

“Well, then you come up with a better solution for why he would abandon his son after literally, _literally_ killing to get him back. I talked to Walt man, his mom died, Michael was all he had.” Hurley said. Without paying much attention, he patted the head of Vincent, who had chosen that moment to go over to his side.

“I do find it easier to believe that Ben would lie, than believing Michael would leave Walt.” She said. “But at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that there very well could be a bomb on that ship and our people could not just not get rescued, but they could die. Unless, of course, Ben is bluffing, trying to fake that he’s still in control even with those outsiders on their way.”

“He’s not bluffing, there really is a bomb and he really does want those other others dead.” Sawyer said.

“How do you know?”

With a sigh, he sat forward. “When they had us, after they let you go, Hugo, there were things he said to me, things he knew about me and my life that he shouldn’t know. Talkin’ with Kate and Jack, it was the same with them. The creepy little bastard has files on all of us, filled with all kinds of details about what we were doing before we got to the island. He knew things that I’d never told anyone and that information had to ‘ve come from somewhere. Just because he’s living here, doesn’t mean he ain’t got contacts in the outside world. I don’t think anything happens on this island without him knowing about it.

“A freighter looking for somewhere that isn’t supposed to exist, with scientists and hired guns on it, there would be a lot of people in that crew, a lot of equipment to be bought and transferred. They couldn’t pull that stuff together overnight and that big of an operation would attract attention, like the attention of Benny boy.” She was nodding along as she plaited together Hurley’s hair. “He would’ve had time to get a spy on the boat and, oh yeah, a bomb.”

“How do we know the bomb hasn’t already been detonated?” She asked.

“That is a very good question sweetheart.”

“Okay, you’re done.” She said, tapping Hurley on the back before turning to Sawyer. “Your turn.”

He looked at Hurley and seemed to decide the end result wasn’t as terrible as he’d first thought. Instead of sitting down on the ground, he turned around, his back to her. “Alright, have at it.”

“Now that we know about the bomb, do we try to stop it?” Hurley asked, a deep frown on his face. “Ben must have a way of getting in touch with the freighter and we could-...”

“We could, what? You heard what Charlie told Desmond, they aren’t who they say they are. If it’s a choice between them and us, I say we let Ben settle whatever score he’s got with them, and we just stay out of it. We’re safe here, that’s the most important thing.”

She shared a look with Hurley. “Even more important than the rest of our people, on the beach, trying to get home?”

“Look, I know it’s harsh, but they made their decision and they know where we are, so they can come and join us at any time.” Sawyer said. “They had all of the same information as us and they chose to go back to the beach and take that chance. We chose to stay here and now we’ve gotta stick together. Going out there, when there could be mercenaries running around, is a suicide mission and I’m not about sign up to be a martyr.”

“This officially sucks.” Hurley said. “I’m gonna take Vincent out for his bathroom break and a bit of a walk. I need some fresh air, just gotta cool off.”

Sawyer and Claire remained silent as Hurley attached Vincent’s leash and headed outside. She finished with the last plait and tied it off, sitting back, feeling defeated. There wasn’t anything else she could do to distract herself, she had to face the grim reality.

“I don’t think Mike has thrown the switch on that bomb yet.”

She looked at him, wanting to shrug this off and ask what did it matter, what did anything matter. They seemed to end up screwed over, in every circumstance. “Why do you say that?”

“Think about it Tinkerbell. Why would Ben still be hiding out if he thought the threat was gone? Clearly Locke doesn’t give two shits about keepin’ him under lock and key anymore, Ben could just wander off and go back to lead his psychotic sheep. Why would he voluntarily want to be around someone like me, who had actively threatened his life, held an actual, loaded gun to his head no more than thirteen days ago?”

“That’s true, I hadn’t thought of that.”

He feigned modesty. “Hey, I’m more than just a pretty face and a great body.”

She laughed. "You keep telling yourself that mate."

"You gonna sleep here tonight?"

She rubbed her arm. "Yeah, I probably should, right? Gotta rip the bandaid off sooner or later…”

“I can stay. I don’t see Vincent being the world’s most effective guard dog, cute as he is.”

She looked up. “Would you?”

“Of course I will babydoll. You got a spare bed, right?”

He got up and she immediately followed. “Yeah, but, no. You can’t sleep on that, it’s a camper cot, even _I_ feel like I’m too tall for it.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He said, stopping in front of the second bedroom. “Not that long ago I was sleeping on the ground, remember.”

“No, I would literally feel so guilty. Please, just, like, sleep in my bed. It’s a double, there’s plenty of room.”

He lingered, looking uncomfortable. "Are you-... I don't wanna, y'know-... Step somewhere I shouldn't."

"There'd be more space between us in there than there was on the couch last night." 

"That's a point."

*

Aaron's crib had been replaced by a dresser draw with some pillows lining it, but the infant slept just as well. Claire shut the bedroom door, leaving Vincent and the rest of the island on the other side. She reached for the closeby dining chair to prop against the door, then stopped, reminding herself that wasn't necessary tonight.

She smiled awkwardly to Sawyer as she crossed the carpet. He was sitting on the bed, looking down at Aaron, as if he'd never seen a sleeping baby in his life. She sat alongside him, considering her son on the floor.

"So he just… stays asleep, all night? That ain't what babies do."

She laughed. "Yeah-nah, I know, but he does. Once he's down for the night, he is down and out, it's heavenly. I get to sleep, that's not a new mum thing, not usually."

"Can we chalk it up to island magic?" He asked.

"Yes, yes we can." She said, tucking her legs up under herself. He had taken his hair out of the plaits and she began to do the same. "Thanks for staying and babysitting me."

"Well don't get too excited, I won't be comin' back if it turns out you're a cover thief." 

There hadn't been any discussion of what should be worn to bed, she didn't feel any need to lay any ground rules. She had found a light yellow nightgown amongst the other clothes left in the house, trying to not think of how someone else had worn it beforehand and just enjoy how comfortable the loose dress was. He hadn't gone looking for anything to wear, instead simply stripping down to his boxers and socks.

He scooted over to the right-hand side of the bed, pulling the duvet over his legs as he leant back against the bedhead. He reached out for the lamp but stopped before turning it off. "Do you want me to leave this on for now?"

She looked at Aaron, confirming to herself that he was safe, committing that peaceful image to mind. "No, no, that's okay."

Sawyer switched the lamp off, casting the room into darkness. The only source of light came from beneath the door, she had kept the hallway light on. 

She laid her head down on the pillow, feeling less tense to be in this bed. She rolled over, putting her back to him and reaching an arm down. She found the handle of Aaron's draw and slipped her hand around it.

"Y'know, I don't have to tell Hurley about this or anyone at all. We don't need people getting the wrong idea."

"What wrong idea?"

Sawyer sighed and she felt him shifting around, trying to get comfortable. "Hurley might think that I'm… I dunno… cutting Charlie's grass or somethin' and they were good pals, he might… feel a certain type of way about that."

"There is no grass being cut. It's just two friends sharing a bed. But I can talk to Hurley or whoever. We can't have your reputation being tarnished."

“Right, my reputation.” He said with a laugh.

“Actually, this is kind of the opposite of your rep.” She said. “People might think you’re going soft, ‘cause who could’ve thought. You know everyone used to think you were the biggest sleaze and maybe I did too. If you want people to think you’ve still got game, or whatever, you can say we went to second base. But not third, I’m not that kind of girl. I know I’m a single mother, but I’m not easy.”

“Oh, excuse me? What makes you think I’d go straight to second base? What if I didn’t want people to think that I’m not easy?”

She snickered. “It’s a little late for that. Everyone heard Juliet’s tape about how she thought Kate could be pregnant, that doesn’t happen because you were platonically sharing a bed or watching Star Trek in your tent all those nights on the beach.”

“You sure got my number on that one, huh?” He asked. “None of that matters now anyway, she doesn’t… Jack, he’s the guy for her. I was just keepin’ her body warm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do we have to talk about this? Can’t what’s in the past, just stay there?”

“I mean if you don’t wanna, but…” She said. “But this is what sleepovers are about, okay? You lay in the dark, ya definitely don’t sleep and you talk about people you like. Sometimes people you don’t, but mostly it’s people you like, like celebrity crushes or that guy in geography class…”

“Drew Barrymore.”

“Oh?”

“Did you see Charlie’s Angels?”

“Fair enough.” She said. “Mine’s Johnny Depp.”

“Edward Scissorhands?”

“Yup. I’ll have you know that I was a very angsty teen, I ate that dark shit up.” She said. “Do boys not do stuff like this at sleepovers? Or do they just talk about sports and, y’know, trucks and junk?”

He hesitated and she released her hold on Aaron’s bed, her interest peaked as she rolled over. “We kinda do a, er, grosser version. It’s more like, who would you screw to get to, insert prom queen or head cheerleader’s name here. Example, let’s say you were the hottest chick in school, well my buddies and I would come up with the ugliest, biggest freak and say, would you screw Freaky McBraceface to get a shot at Claire? And you’d go through all the losers and ugos until you either went through the whole school or you found the limit of who you wouldn’t screw to get to Claire.”

“Uh-huh, cool, teenage boys are as shallow and gross as I thought.”

“Great, now that’s settled, can we go to sleep?”

“What’s your star sign?” She asked.

He faked a loud yawn. “I’d love to answer that but…” He trailed off, making some comical snoring sounds.

“When is your birthday?” She asked, jabbing him with her elbow, intending to make it hurt.

“February twentieth.”

“A Pisces, I should’ve known. Well then it definitely wouldn’t’ve worked out with Kate…”

“Are we still talkin’ about that?”

Claire kept talking, not paying much attention to him now that she had gotten started. “She’s a Gemini, y’know and your two signs are _not_ compatible. She is flighty, which duh, you know, but it’s a major air sign thing. And then there’s you, a Pisces and you are closed off. She would never have the patience for you and you’d go nuts trying to figure her out with your overly introspective nature. Recipe for disaster and heartache.”

“So you’re saying that I dodged a bullet?”

“I could do your birth chart for you, really get into what makes you you, if you’d like.”

“What I would like is to go to sleep.” He said. “What d’ya think of that?”

Her mind hadn’t started racing and she felt comfortable enough to shut her eyes. “Sure, sweet dreams.” She didn’t feel the need to reach back out for Aaron, settling her hands under her cheek on the pillow.

“Sweet dreams babydoll.”

*

Claire's eyes fluttered open, finding the quiet bedroom with everything in order. There was no need to rush or panic. If she wanted, she could fall back into slumber, Aaron was yet to wake up.

The warmth of Sawyer's body was comforting, so inviting. During the night she had become his little spoon, his body snugly tucked behind hers. His arms were security and she didn't want to move.

Skin pressed against skin. It brought forth thoughts, ideas she hadn't considered in what felt like a long time.

She wanted to forget the morning. Everything beyond this room was going to be complicated. But in this moment she felt content and there was nothing to question.

She heard a sharp inhale behind her and shut her eyes. She wondered if she could stay still enough, maybe he wouldn't wake up. Maybe he wouldn't assess the situation and deem it as strange or unnecessary.

She felt him shift back and begin to take his hand out of hers. She opened her eyes, looking over her shoulder to him.

He was wearing a somewhat embarrassed smile. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Isn't this breaking some kind of sleepover rule?"

"Nope, I'm cool with it." She said, rolling onto her back. "I like it, so much better than the alternative of waking up on my own."

"I gotta agree with ya on that one."

His arm was still across her middle and she noticed him briefly look down, to her lips. She felt like laughing, even though no jokes had been said.

Aaron gave a few warning whimpers before starting to cry. She sat up as quickly as she could, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and reaching for her son. Sawyer was getting out of the bed as she held Aaron up, trying to get a sense for what was wrong.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." She said.

Sawyer closed the door after himself, providing her with privacy to begin feeding Aaron. She found a comfortable way to hold him, watching as his hands unclenched out of their frustrated fists.

She couldn't remember what she had dreamt of. But she felt well-rested. There weren't any threats of a headache and her muscles didn't ache. The blisters that had been growing on her feet, brought on by wearing wet sneakers for days at a time, were almost completely gone.

Vincent was waiting on the other side of the bedroom door, tail immediately wagging at the sight of her. She rubbed Aaron’s back as she walked down the hall, he was gurgling to himself, not yet settled. She thought he might start crying again soon, simply to let her know that he was cranky. He was fidgeting against her, seeming to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

Sawyer looked perfectly comfortable in her kitchen, maybe more relaxed than she had ever been in the room. He was leaning against the counter as he drank his coffee, gazing out the window. It appeared that this arrangement was suiting him.

She saw the second cup sitting on the counter and went over to collect it, Vincent still following her. “Cheers.” 

“I forgot to tell you last night…”

Aaron fell silent in the instant he heard Sawyer’s voice. The baby stopped squirming in Claire’s arms, apparently comfortable. From his spot, his blue eyes locked on their house guest.

“After you left, Locke really started in on talking about how everyone is welcome to the Temple, ‘cause it’s gonna be great and they’re gonna find out exactly why we’re here and yada yada yada, destiny, yada yada. We’ll be protected from everything there, it’s this amazing sanctuary where all our dreams will come true. I dunno about you, but I doubt it’s gonna have a giant flatscreen TV and a hot tub and a lifetime supply of beer. And Locke bein’ there, well, that sounds more like a nightmare to me.”

“It’s always something with him, huh?”

“Just be ready for it, ‘cause they’re not heading out ‘til tomorrow and he might swing by here to tell you about somethin’ he read in tea leaves or a spot of mould in his bathroom that looks like Jesus’ face. He talked for what felt like half an hour, he really wants us to know how amazing it’s gonna be there.” 

“Well it’ll just be a waste of his time. I didn’t come here to follow him and find out the meaning of life or whatever. I came here because it was away from that boat. I don’t need a sanctuary, I just need safety and that’s what we’ve got here.”

“Good, if people see you turning him away, they’ll be more likely to do that too. Hurley thinks you’re an influential member of the camp.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Me, really? I don’t even do anything, I just hang out with Aaron.”

“Exactly, you’re rational and you keep to yourself, not disappearing into the jungle just ‘cause or having big arguments in front of everyone. You’re level-headed and trustworthy, everyone loves you. The cute kid probably helps too.”

“Yeah.” She smiled down at her son. “He’s pretty great, huh?”

“I should take off, I need to check in and make sure we don’t have any defectors.” Sawyer said.

She turned to watch him leave the room. “Hey, remember when you didn’t want a bar of any of us? I dunno, we might start thinking of you as our leader and we might start viewing you as trustworthy. The cute dimples probably help too.”

“I’m just tryin’ to keep Locke from getting more of us killed.” He shrugged.

“Sure.” She said, channelling his sarcasm.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire goes to ask Ben for a favour that will help her remember Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I had to do it to 'em with the PB&J feels...

Claire wasn't sure if she would ever see Locke again, once he left the safety of the barracks, he could be easily swept up in the unpredictable threats of this island. He could simply disappear into the jungle and become another name of someone they had lost.

He had been a good friend to her, never talking down to her and he would always take what she said seriously. Whenever she swaddled Aaron, she would think of Locke and how calm he had been. He had shown genuine confidence in her ability as a mother and that been of immense help, allowing her to begin viewing herself in a higher regard.

She wanted this last visit to be of significance, she wanted to find the perfect thing to say. She wanted him to say something that she would remember, that would be useful, as his advice in the past had been.

So far all that she had contributed were polite nods while he did all of the talking. It was about Jacob, again. Locke sat on the couch, speaking with such enthusiasm. The vague terms he spoke in concerned her, it reminded her of the Bible bashers who waited at train stations, with more pamphlets than sense.

He was yet to confirm whether or not she would actually meet Jacob. His excited words weren’t inspiring any motivation in her, not while she couldn’t clearly picture what he was trying to sell her.

“All that I want is what’s best for all of us, but especially for you and the baby…” Locke gestured to the dining table, Aaron was currently propped up there, settled into his basket and enjoying an afternoon nap. “And I know that Jacob feels the same way.”

She presented her palm to Locke, unable to stay quiet. “Look John, with all due respect and I appreciate your offer, but for right now what’s best for my son is getting into a routine and giving him somewhere safe to grow up, which is here. The Others are too unpredictable, I would never let my guard down. And that level of stress… Aaron would know that something was wrong, babies know stuff like that.”

“You’re right and at the end of the day, it’s your call and you will always know what’s best for him.” He said. “But I want you to know that you are under my protection, you and Aaron, and I will never let anything happen to you.”

“Can I be under your protection and stay here?”

“If that’s what you’d like.” There was a bittersweet quality to his smile.

“It is, ‘cause I like it here.” She said. “Would you like more tea?”

“Please.”

She rose out of the armchair and immediately hooked her thumb through one of the belt-loops on her jeans. They were a pair she had found in the wardrobe of her house, they were about half a size too big, but they were the best she could do while her own clothes were drying in the sun. She yanked the pants up into a more comfortable spot.

Locke got her attention as she stood in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to finish boiling the water. “I think you dropped this, a licence, huh, it feels like a million years since I’ve seen one of these. Is this Charlie’s? I didn’t realise you had his things.”

She approached sheepishly and took the small ID card from him. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to grab all of it.” She fingered the rounded corner, looking at the photo of Charlie looking entirely too serious. There were faint streaks of red in his hair and the shadow of liner not properly removed from beneath his eyes. “I guess I thought we’d- that I’d get more time to go back to the beach. So I’ve just got his wallet and a few other little things that I could fit into my pack.”

She didn’t need to read the information on the card. She already knew all of the words off by heart.

“This is the only photo I’ve got of him and I’m just scared that I’m gonna forget what he looked like.”

“You know who might be able to help you out with that? Ben.”

She cocked an eyebrow, not answering as she poured boiling water into Locke’s mug.

“He has files on all of us, very in-depth documents. I’ve only seen mine and a couple of others, but there were photos in there. It’s certainly unnerving, but I can’t say that I blame them for wanting to know who had shown up on their doorstep. I’m not sure what use he could get out of a file about Charlie, given that he’s no longer with us. Couldn’t hurt to ask him, maybe get yourself more of a keepsake.”

“Right, well, I’ll keep that in mind.”

She protectively curled her hand around the licence, before pushing it back into her pocket, deeper this time. Her mind rushed with questions, but few were about Locke’s intentions. Instead she was questioning what she would and should do with this information.

* * *

Hurley answered the knock at the door and visibly relaxed at the sight of Claire. Perhaps he was expecting a visit from Locke, for it to be his turn to hear more about the Temple.

"You're not busy, are you?" She asked, bouncing Aaron on her hip. She checked over her shoulder, worried that someone might be monitoring her.

"Nah dude, I was just trying to figure out what I wanna watch, Blade Runner again or The Goonies." Hurley said, shutting the door behind her. "Have you seen 'em before?"

"Yeah-nah, can't say that I have."

"You're kidding, right? They've gotta have Goonies in Australia."

"Well undoubtedly, I just missed out on it."

"Do we wanna watch it with me?" He asked.

"Nah, actually I came to ask you a favour…"

"Sure, anything."

"Can you watch Aaron for me, just for like an hour or so? I'm desperate for a nap and he can get a bit clingy. I just fed him so he should be fine, he mostly needs someone to keep him company and maybe a nappy change."

“Cool, yeah, I’ll hang out with the little dude.” He said, the front door opening as she passed Aaron into his arms.

“Hey cutie, what’s up?” Sawyer asked.

“I’m just getting Uncle Hurley to babysit Aaron for a bit.” She said, playing with Aaron’s foot.

“Are you, like, allergic to shirts or something, man?” Hurley asked and she turned around to where Sawyer was standing with his shirt slung over his shoulder. “Can you stop walking around like you’re at a Calvin Klein photoshoot? You’re gonna warp Aaron’s perception of, like, body-image.”   
  


She laughed and went to shield the baby’s eyes with her hand. Her own opinion she kept to herself, feeling more aware of his tan torso than she had been in the kitchen this morning.

“Is that so?” He pulled the shirt back on. “Well, let me cover up before the angry mom’s association writes letters of protest. I got hot while I was training with Karl.”

“Training with Karl for what?” Hurley asked.

“Teachin’ him how to box, lift weights, y’know, the stuff a kid’s dad should teach him, ‘cept his dad ain’t around. There’s a bunch of gym equipment over in the rec’ room, doesn’t make any sense to let it just sit there and collect dust.”

“Wow, very manly…” She said before turning back to Hurley. “Come and wake me up if he doesn’t settle, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Wake you up?” Sawyer asked.

She scratched at her scalp. “Yeah, I’m just gonna take a quick nap. I, uh, didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You didn’t, huh?” She could see in his eyes that he knew she was lying, but so long as he didn’t challenge her on this, it didn’t matter. “That’s a shame.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll set my alarm for about ninety minutes.” She said, then laughed, hoping it didn’t sound nervous. “Alarm clock, still feels weird.”

She kissed Aaron on the cheek before heading for the door. She waved over her shoulder as she stepped out. Hurley was already distracted, asking Sawyer which movie he wanted to watch. He was watching her, trying to figure out what she was up to. It seemed he knew her better than she had thought.

No one stopped her for a chat on her walk back to her house. Steve and Faith were playing fetch with Vincent, they waved to her.

She entered her home, pulling Charlie’s licence out of her pocket once the door was safely shut. She drew in a deep breath and proceeded to the backdoor. 

She checked all around her as she walked to the house Locke was living in. She let herself into the fenced yard and went to knock on the backdoor.

* * *

Ben stood on the other side of the door, smiling as if Claire's appearance were merely a pleasant surprise. She felt rooted to the spot, trying to weigh up the risks she was walking toward. She tried to steel herself, to remember why she had come here. But just looking at him unnerved her.

She had never been alone with Ben and she already felt vulnerable. She wished Locke hadn't removed Ben's restraints so soon. 

She knew all of the violent things he had done and she knew there was no way for her to defend herself. She could go running to Sawyer, he would have no issue asserting dominance over Ben. But she didn't want anyone else to know that she was here, she was embarrassed over this situation of asking a favour of him.

"I'm sorry but John isn't here." He said. "He and Miles had an errand to run." He kept on smiling, even as she narrowed her eyes at him. "But I can let him know that you stopped by, get him to pay you-..."

"That's not necessary, I actually wanted to talk to you about something Locke said to me earlier…"

He stepped aside. "Well please, by all means, come in."

She clenched her jaw and pushed herself forward. She stuck her hand out, stopping him from shutting the door. “Can we leave this open?” She didn’t have enough confidence in her physical speed to think that she could outrun him, but if she screamed, there was one less barrier to muffle the sound. “I’ve got issues with claustrophobia.”

“Of course, that’s fine.” He went over to the dining table and laid a hand on one of the chairs. “I feel like I shouldn’t even bother with pleasantries, I’m sure you and your friends already have your minds made up about me.” He looked bashful, his conversational tone making her seethe. “I can only imagine what you think of me.”

“Locke said you might have photos of Charlie.”

“Photos of Charlie?” His eyebrows had shot up.

She crossed her arms across her chest, doing her best to stare him down. “Yeah, Locke said that you and your people had files on all of us and that there were photos in there. You don’t need Charlie’s any more, he isn’t a threat to you. So I’d like his file, better than you just throwing it in the trash.”

“A threat? No, we don’t have those files because we think you and your friends are a threat to us.”

“I don’t care why.” She said. “I just want Charlie’s.”

“Yes, well, the file cabinet I have them in is downstairs, it’ll only take us a second to grab them.”

“I’m not going downstairs with you. I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Yes, right…” He went into the living room and pushed what sounded like a heavy bookcase away from the wall. This revealed an inconspicuous door, which he opened.

She didn’t wait to make sure he actually went in, she immediately took her cue to walk back outside. There was a wooden picnic table in the backyard and she took a seat there, facing the door. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, noticing the way her hands trembled.

A drop of rain hit the crown of her hair, light droplets following it as a drizzle covered the barracks. 

“Hello Claire, what brings you here?” Locke was smiling as he entered the backyard, Miles walked a bit behind with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up.

“I came to ask Ben for the photos, he’s just getting them now.”

“Does it rain here every damn day?” Miles asked, looking miserable.

“Pretty much.”

“I’m glad you’re here, ‘cause I’ve got some great news and I think you might just be the perfect person to hear it first.” Locke said.

Miles’ expression didn’t fill Claire with much enthusiasm. “Okay, so what is it?”

“Me and Miles just went for a little rendezvous with a couple of Others, they sent Ben a message a couple of hours ago that they had news of the freighter.” Locke said, sitting down beside her while Miles went inside. Her stomach dropped and she almost asked him to stop talking, to keep him from telling her the end of this story. “They saw the explosion, Michael detonated the bomb and now, what Charlie warned us about, is over, we don’t have to worry about being slaughtered.”

She thought of Walt, how he would never see his dad again. There were so many other people who had been recruited on to that boat, probably being told they were to carry out an important task, now they were gone. The idea of her own safety didn’t provide her with much comfort yet. She looked down at her lap, watching spots of the denim grow dark as rain hit them. 

“You don’t seem relieved.”

“Were any of us on the boat when it blew up?” She asked. “Y’know, aside from Michael…”

“I would have to confirm with the people back at the beach, but from what the Others saw, it looks like we’re all okay. Desmond and Sayid were on their way to the freighter, in a helicopter and they were going to start ferrying people. But the Others don’t believe they got very far, according to what they saw, it seems like the helicopter left the island maybe ten minutes before the bomb went off, not enough time for them to get to the freighter.” He said. “I think I’ll head down to the beach before Ben and I make our way inland, touch base with everyone there and get a proper headcount. But right now, it looks good Claire, it all looks really good for us.”

She forced a smile so that he would stop trying to get her on his side. “I guess I just don’t really feel like celebrating yet.”

“Sure, but in the long-run, this is-...”

“Locke.” Ben was slightly out of breath as he jogged out of the house, towards them. “Was Richard telling the truth?”

“Of course he was.”

She stood up, extending her arm. “Is that Charlie’s file?”

“Actually it’s the files for everyone from Oceanic 815.” Ben handed the stack of manila folders over to her. “I don’t have any use for any of them, they were just gonna get left in the draw when I left.”

She felt certain he was lying. Information was power and he wouldn’t so easily hand that over. She imagined he had duplicates somewhere else, somewhere safe, maybe at the Temple. But that wasn’t her concern. She had gotten what she wanted.

“I guess I’ll head out front and make an announcement to everyone.” Locke said, standing up.

“I’ll leave you to it.” She said, heading for the gate while he went around to the front of the house, then going to stand in the middle of the courtyard.

She glanced over at the crowd that was gathering in the rain to hear him speak. He was shouting, maybe trying to channel Jack and the respect he usually commanded when giving his impromptu speeches. She could see Hurley standing on his balcony, Aaron safe from the rain in his arms. Alex and Karl were standing side-by-side, looking concerned. 

Claire reached the side of her house and paused, considering if she should join the group. But then she heard Ben’s speaking and she realised how much she wanted to get away from him, she had seen enough of his face for one day.

Before she had a chance to step around and out of sight, her eyes locked with Sawyer’s from where he stood beside Danielle. His eyes dipped down to the folders she held against her chest and she knew she would have to share the information with him later.

At the moment she didn’t care, all that mattered was that she had the photos. She walked around to the backdoor and let herself in. She flicked carelessly through the other folders, barely acknowledging the last names as she brushed them aside. When she got to  _ Pace, Charlie, _ she dumped the rest of the papers onto the dining table.

She went into the bedroom and shut the door. She slid down to sit on the floor, feeling out of breath. She stopped herself from flipping the file open immediately. This was an invasion of privacy, she was about to learn all of Charlie’s secrets, things that he hadn’t wanted her to know. There was the risk of finding something she didn’t like and her idea of him would be tarnished, less enjoyable to come back to.

She sat the folder on the ground, telling herself she didn’t have to read anything. She told herself that she could take the photos out and put the rest of it away.

She removed the glossy prints and felt a wave of warmth overwhelm her body in response to seeing Charlie’s face again.

The first photo showed him on a sunny beach, sprawled out on the sand and grinning widely. Carefree and happy on a holiday, three friends alongside him. The next photo showed a more serious side, he was wearing a suit. He looked handsome, but also peculiar, she wasn’t used to seeing him so formal. He was holding a toddler, she was wearing a frilly dress. The little girl featured in another photo, clearly from the same day. This time they were accompanied by a taller man. Flicking back, Claire recognised him from the beach photo. She wondered if this was his brother. She recalled him mentioning a niece once or twice when she’d asked how he knew so much about babies. If they’d had more time together, she could have heard more stories.

There were plenty of photos from what looked to be a professional photoshoot, most of them featured three men alongside him. Drive Shaft. Charlie in his glory days. They all looked moody, as if they were getting ready to write songs exclusively about breakups. There were solo shots of Charlie, some of him holding his guitar and appearing to be deep in thought. She could see the determination in his eyes, knowing that she shouldn’t let the amount of charcoal liner distract her, he was fixed on his target and wouldn’t let anything distract him.

He had looked at her like that on numerous occasions. She had usually made a joke to change the mood, more comfortable sharing a laugh with him. It had intimidated her when he’d looked at her with such intention, it was different to how any other man had looked at her. She wasn’t sure she was the correct target for him to focus on. He had a passion and a drive to follow it, making him a rock star. She didn’t think she had done anything that made her worth a fraction of his passion. 

There were photos of him with his family on Christmas. He and his brother were dressed in matching, daggy jumpers that she guessed hadn’t been purchased from any store, instead hand-crafted specifically for them. 

She didn't let herself get too carried away with wondering how Ben had gotten these photos. If she thought about that, the photos would be ruined, brought together by a creep.

She endeavoured to simply look at the photos and take them for what they were, seeing the different colours that made up Charlie's life.

She smiled, looking down at a photo of him beaming triumphantly on stage, an adoring crowd before him. She realised she couldn't remember what he smelt like, the distinctive smell of his clothes didn't immediately come to mind. She thought of sea spray and peanut butter, the beginnings of tears stinging her eyes.

She placed each photo on the floor around her, face up and considered them for what they represented. It was all that she had left of him.

She hadn't anticipated facing this much difficulty in selecting her favourite, the one she would want to put in a frame and prop up on her bedside table so that she could look at him every day. Maybe she hadn't expected the volume of photos or potentially she had been imagining pictures taken without his consent, out of focus and from far away.

Outside of the bedroom, she collected frames off of walls and from end tables. The photos placed there by the home’s previous occupants looked innocent enough. They were regular people, sharing happy memories. The facade was sweet, the opposite of her perception of the Others.

She removed these photos from the frames and took them over to the bin. She didn’t need any extra reminders of who had lived here before her. They didn’t deserve to be remembered, not in such a flattering way.

On her bedside table she stood two frames, a serious photo of him in rock star mode. Her other selection was of his infectious smile, lighting up his whole face as he posed in front of the Christmas tree, a gaming console she didn’t recognise in his hands. His authenticity endearing, making her return his smile, despite the tears on her cheeks. She thought of sitting down with Aaron and explaining to him why he needed to know the name Charlie Pace.

She drew in a shaky breath and went into the bathroom, she needed to compose herself before she went to get Aaron. She splashed cold water on her face, telling herself her eyes didn’t look as red as she thought, surely they could go unnoticed.

“Hey sweetheart, how was your nap?”

She was usually careful to lock the doors behind her. She patted her face dry and left the bathroom, ready to address Sawyer. “Okay, so I fibbed, sue me.”

“I just wanna know what kind of secretarial work Locke has you doin’?” He asked.

“It isn’t like that.” She said, facing where he stood in his dampened clothes. “I actually went there to talk to Ben, I had to ask him for something.”

“Ben, what? Why were you talkin’ to him? Why didn’t you tell me, I could’ve gone with you.”

“Oh yeah, I should’ve come to you, that would’ve been a  _ great _ way to de-escalate the situation.” She rolled her eyes. “If I’d told you, you woulda gone in there like…” She lowered her voice and tensed her arms, pretending to flex her muscles. “ _ Manly man does not ask questions with words _ …” She gave a comical grunt. “ _ Manly man asks questions with fists. _ ” She grunted again, punching the air between them.

He was smiling enough for her to see the dimples in his cheeks. “First off, that’s uncanny. You should take that impression on the road, start yourself a new career in stand-up.”

“Well thank you.” She said and turned, heading toward the bedroom. “But it wasn’t anything too serious and I figured I could handle it on my own. I just needed to get something Locke said he had and I got it, all by myself, no rescuing from manly man required.”

“What’d you get?” He had followed her as she had hoped. She picked up one of the frames and handed it to him. “Pictures of the band geek. Why would Ben have those? Was he secretly a fan of the music or somethin’?”

“Remember those stalker-esque files you told me and Hurley about? I guess it wasn’t enough to just have words and stats printed on a page, he needed to know what we look like.”

“And he just gave it to you? Did you ask for yours too?”

“I only wanted Charlie’s, but he gave them all to me, all of those about our people, at least.” She went over and collected the summary of Charlie’s life from where she had left it on the ground. “I don’t really know why, I don’t even know what to do with this one. Reading it seems like a massive invasion of privacy.”

Sawyer was leaving the room and she tagged along, unable to read him at this moment. “More of an invasion of privacy than Ben having all this information to begin with?”

“I guess not.” She stood back, watching him shuffle through the folders scattered on the table. “I just feel weird about it.”

“People deserve to know what Ben’s got on ‘em.”

“What if it brings up things they don’t want to be reminded of?” She asked.

“Can I have mine?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“What are you gonna do with the rest?”

“I dunno, I hadn’t put any real thought into them.” She said, feeling strange and unnerved. “I should probably go and grab Aaron, can we figure out what to do with these when I get back?”

“Sure thing babydoll.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She felt compelled to check back over her shoulder before stepping out of the house.

Aaron was sleeping soundly when she arrived at Gordie's old house, making the transfer of him from Hurley’s arms to her own easy. Hurley seemed down as he asked if she’d heard about the freighter.

“It’s not just me, right? It truly sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Nah-yeah, I hate it too.” She said.

“The whole it’s us or them mentality, I don’t, like, vibe with that.”

“It doesn’t sit well with me either.” She said. “Hey, I might have something back at my place that could cheer you up. Can you give me a second to go and get it?” 

“Sure, dude.”

She hadn’t conducted a thorough check of the files, but she assumed there would be one cataloguing Libby and her life. The rain became heavier, more persistent as she entered her front yard. She hastened her steps, holding Aaron closer to her body, hoping the more noticeable water droplets wouldn’t wake him.

The house was silent when she entered. She was confused by the sight of the dining table completely cleared off. She assumed Sawyer had moved to a different room, somewhere more comfortable. She checked the living room and the spare room.

Her blood was boiling by the time she reached her bedroom. Here she found the only file that hadn’t disappeared along with him. She snatched it up off her bed, reading the name.  _ Pace, Charlie _ . He hadn’t been courteous enough to leave her own folder.

“That dickhead.” She grumbled, tossing the papers down.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire confronts Sawyer over the missing files.

Aaron remained asleep, nestled against Claire in the baby sling Charlie had made for them. She held the baby close in an effort to keep any rain from hitting his face.

She trudged her way around the barracks, doing her best to avoid any muddy patches as she tried to find Sawyer. But no one had seen him. After Locke's announcement, nobody could place the Southerner amongst the many buildings. He wasn't in his house, nor was he visiting Locke.

She was flustered and out of breath when she stepped through the open doors into the recreation room. In the back corner of this room was where Sawyer had been hiding. So far as she could tell, he was alone, wearing his glasses and reading.

"What the bloody Hell do you think you're doing?" She asked, striding across the room. "You stole those files from my house."

"Sure did. You didn't seem too interested in havin' them and my curiosity wouldn't let me leave 'em alone." He held up a photo and she saw her seventeen year old self. "Why didn't you keep your hair like this? You look so cute and edgy."

"I thought we agreed that we were gonna figure out what to do with these, but instead you just take them?" She asked, doing her best to not raise her voice and risk disturbing Aaron.

"And there's your problem sweetheart." Sawyer said, removing his glasses as he sat forward. "I don't know who you think I am, I also don't know when you decided me and you made decisions together. I'm not your boyfriend."

"What? Is  _ that _ what this is about?"

"You need to get real Claire. You're bein' too nice to me, you wanna play with my hair and have nighttime cuddles. You don't know me, you don't know the type of man I am."

"How about I read your file? Why don't you show me what type of man you are?"

He stood up and she could have cowered. "You really wanna read my file?"

"Tit for tat, you're reading mine and everyone else's."

He glowered at her and silently snatched a file from the top of the pile.  _ Ford, James _ . She took it, avoiding his eye.

Before she could open it, Aaron began to cry, suddenly awake and unhappy. She shushed him, turning her back to Sawyer. She walked over to the opposite corner, sitting down on the couch there.

Once Aaron had started nursing, she placed the folder on the cushion next to her and flipped it open. She read without any enthusiasm. But despite herself, she felt her irritation melting away.

An eight year old boy orphaned in a horrifically violent manner. She kept referring back to this, all of the events that followed paling in comparison. She found herself willing to blame everything upon the pain this had undoubtedly caused. It was confusing and a story so sad she didn't know what to do with the knowledge.

"I didn't actually read yours." Sawyer said.

She readjusted her top, stroking Aaron's forehead as he settled down again. "Is that supposed to make me feel better, like do ya think that's gonna earn your brownie points or something?"

"I don't need your brownie points." He said and glancing over her shoulder, she saw how stony his impression was. "Are you tellin' me you weren't a little bit tempted to read these, to see who you're actually living with, going deeper than face value?"

"It's an invasion of privacy."

He laughed to himself. "That doesn't mean you didn't wanna read 'em."

"Yeah, but at least I have the decency to feel bad about wanting to read them."

They sat in silence, with her gently rocking Aaron. She was worried that the comfortable dynamic she and Sawyer had been enjoying was shifting, deserting them. 

She looked over her shoulder, observing him for a moment. He wasn't currently reading anything, instead gazing out the window. She could see a few of the manila envelopes resting in his lap.

"Libby. Can I have her file?" She asked, standing up and daring to approach. "I wanna give it to Hurley."

He lifted up a folder and extended it to her. "You can have any of these that you want darlin', you just gotta ask."

"God, everything is a power play with you, isn't it?"

"That's the way of the manly man."

"You can do whatever you want with those files, I don't care. It doesn't matter to me who you were, it's about who you are right now. I spent a lot of time struggling with the man that Charlie used to be, everybody knows that. I was so scared and obsessed with his past that it kept me from enjoying the man he actually was. Holding that grudge stole so much time from him and me and that is time that I will literally never get back. So I'm done with it, I'm done letting the past rob my present." She said. "I'm gonna give this to Hurley and then I'm gonna hang out with my son and put my feet up. You can enjoy rooting through the skeletons in other people's closets."

He didn't say anything to make her pause or change her mind. There was a lull in the rain as she made her way across the courtyard. 

She glanced back, wondering why Sawyer wasn't trying to catch up with her. Did she want him to follow her and try to make it right? She tried to put it out of her mind, letting him make his point for the moment. 

* * *

Claire laid flat on her back, Aaron curled up on her chest and Vincent lying across the foot of the bed. After the day she'd had she would need to stay here for a while to allow herself to recover.

Hurley had been grateful to receive the file from her, seeming to be at a loss for words. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the first photo, needing to lean against the wall for support. He had marvelled at this discovery and she had lied, saying she had only gotten the two files from Ben.

Seeing Hurley's reaction, she knew she had done the right thing. All of the other drama was worth it because he was seeing Libby's face again.

She hadn't stuck around, not wanting to intrude on this sensitive moment. She had returned to her own home as the sun was setting. She had laid herself down in a warm bath with an awake Aaron in her arms. He wasn't pleased with the experience at first, but some singing had been able to soothe him.

She had only meant to lie down for a couple of minutes, but she didn't have any motivation to move. She laid still on the bed, his whole hand wrapped around one of her fingers. She listened to the rain hitting the window and felt content, despite how exhausted she was. She was with her son and that was the most important thing, none of the choices she made today could affect that.

Vincent's head immediately shot up at the sound of a knock on the door. She moved slowly, doing her best to not disturb Aaron. She wrapped a bathrobe around herself and headed out of the bedroom.

She opened the door to find Sawyer standing on the other side, his hair dripping and what looked to be the entire stack of folders in his hands. “I read them all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I was looking for someone more fucked up than me.”

“And did you find that?”

“No.” He said. “But Shannon was married for three months and Locke lived and worked on a weed farm for a while.”

“Huh.” She wasn’t sure how much interest he wanted her to show. “Do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna put Aaron down and I’ll get you a towel.” She said as Vincent sniffed eagerly at Sawyer. “Try not to sit on the couch.”

Aaron didn’t put up any fuss as she lowered him into the drawer. She kissed him on the forehead, wishing she could enjoy this serene moment with him. 

She found Sawyer standing in the kitchen and she chucked the towel at his head. “Why did you bring those back, is this a peace offering or something?”

“No, I figured that you were the right person to have them.” He said, drying off his hair.

“Okay. I’ll probably just end up handing them back to everyone.”

He shrugged. “If that’s what you think is the best thing to do.”

“So…” She leant against the counter and folded her arms across her chest, noticing how he wasn’t meeting her eye. “When are we gonna talk about all of that bullshit you projected on me earlier?”

“You’re a good person Claire, a really good person. People look at you like you’re actually the Virgin Mary. And you read my file and you probably knew a bit of the shit I’ve done, people I’ve screwed over for my own gain, I’ve even killed before. I just don’t think we’re the kind of people meant to succeed as friends.”

“Is that all this is about? Or is it that you don’t like being my friend?”

“No, I like being your friend, maybe I like it a bit too much.” He said, finally looking her in the eye. Something unspoken passed between the two of them and she felt her cheeks heat up with a blush. “But I have a habit of screwing up anything even remotely good in my life, so we should probably just find other people to hang out with before I hurt you.”

She burst out laughing, but her amusement grew thin at the look on his face. "C'mon man, you're doing it again, you're projecting and this whole  _ everything that I touch gets destroyed _ thing you're going for. It's so dramatic, you do realise that, right?"

"Dramatic? You're callin' me dramatic?"

"At the moment, yeah. I said I liked Edward Scissorhands when I was an angry teenager but, jeez, I never said I wanted to hang out with the miserable bastard." She said. "You do understand that's what you're channeling right now, right?"

"I'm bein' serious here."

"Nah-yeah, that's great but I can't take you seriously." She composed herself with a deep breath. "How about you stop trying to scare me off and let me make my mind up for myself? I'm a big girl, I'm more than capable of doing that.

"Literally every single person has crap in their past and that's that. So either you and me exist in the present together or you brood your whole life away. I've already made my choice, now you can make yours…"

She returned to the bedroom, finding Aaron sleeping peacefully. She sat down on the bed, just watching him for the moment. She thought about changing into her nightgown and lying down, leaving her worries behind.

"Hey…" Sawyer lingered in the doorway. "Do you want me to go?"

"I'd sleep better if you stayed."

"Well alright then."

* * *

The next morning Claire picked up the stack of folders and opened the bottom draw in the kitchen with her foot. She dropped the papers into the draw and slid it shut.

"How mad would you be if his first word was  _ fuck _ ?"

She flicked the kettle on to boil before she turned to Sawyer. He had Aaron in his arms, the baby alert and looking around eagerly. "I would be livid. But that said, it would make him very popular with the bogans. Australian's have potty mouths and they would love it. I'm making tea, would you like one?"

He screwed his face up. "No, can you stop with the tea? What's wrong with coffee? Why d'ya have to keep messin' with the classics?"

Before she could argue back, there was a knock at the door. She went to the door, hesitating before turning the knob. She saw Alex standing on the front porch, unaccompanied.

"Hey, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Yeah-nah, we were already awake, come in." She stood aside to allow the teenager to enter.

“I wanted to bring you, well, Aaron, some things and…” Alex trailed off, caught off guard by the appearance of Sawyer. “Oh, hey.”

“Mornin’.” He said.

“My dad came to see me earlier ‘cause he wanted to, like, let me know that our old house would be empty. I guess he thought I might, whatever, like some of my things. So I did, you know, go over and I thought maybe Aaron might like to have…” She removed a full-looking pack from her shoulder, placing it on the counter. “...my old stuffed animals.”

She unzipped the bag and fuzzy fabric immediately appeared. The first toy that she pulled out was an orca, then came a polar bear. She produced a collection of colourful barnyard animals and a few rabbits in various pastel shades.

“Alex, this is so sweet.” Claire said, picking up a unicorn. “Are you sure you wanna give me all of these? Because you really don’t have to. I’m sure Aaron won’t hold a grudge if you only wanna leave him with one or two.”

“No, no, no, please I want you guys to have them. I mean, he has nothing. A baby deserves to have toys.” Alex said and wiggled a cat in his face.

"You said your dad has left?" Sawyer asked.

"No, he's leaving, I think they said they were waiting 'til about lunchtime. They wanna head down to the beach, I guess Locke wants to check in with your people back there before they, like, totally take off."

"The beach? What are they gonna do, tell him it was Ben's plan to blow the freighter up the whole time?" He asked, voice raising.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno, I didn't ask a lot of questions about their plans or whatever."

He handed Aaron back to Claire. "You know what Locke is like, he's gonna tell them 'cause he thinks it's for the best and he'll wanna get 'em all on his side."

"Sure, that sounds like him."

"Well, Jack's gonna wanna kill him." He said and she couldn't quite connect with the intensity in his eyes. "Do you think we should try to stop him, cut him off before he leaves?"

She didn't much like the idea of becoming tangled in this. She smirked at him. "Are you asking me because you're seeking my opinion so that we can make a decision together or… something else?"

He threw his hands up, beginning out of the kitchen. "I'm leavin'."

"Okay." She rolled her eyes to Alex. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

Sawyer came stalking back down the hall, fully dressed and with his boots on. Claire could tell he wasn't truly irritated, not in the same way he had been yesterday. There was still room to tease.

"I'm gonna go back to my place and I'm not gonna talk to John. That's my decision."

"Sounds good to me." She said, enjoying how displeased he was by her smile. "See ya later Edward."

"Edward?" Alex repeated.

"Goodbye." He said before leaving, he didn't slam the door on his way out.

"Edward Scissorhands, you've seen that movie, right?" Claire asked as she poured boiling water into two separate mugs.

"No, is he, like, a superhero or a hairdresser or something?"


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miles is staying at the barracks and the camp discusses the possibilities of his ability to speak with the dead.

"So he's staying, then?"

Locke and Ben had set off a few hours prior. It had happened without fanfare, Locke more relaxed than Claire was accustomed to seeing him. She could only hope that his sense of security would remain intact.

Miles hadn't been anywhere in sight at the time. Claire spotted the former prisoner across the courtyard, he was attempting to make himself comfortable in a hammock.

"Uh, I guess…" Hurley craned his neck, considering the stranger for a moment. "Is he gonna act like he's one of us now?"

Sawyer threw the tennis ball and Vincent immediately tore off after it. "He better drop the damn attitude."

They were hanging out in front of Hurley and Sawyer's house, a tranquil moment almost like the real world, just a sunny afternoon for them to enjoy. She had Aaron in her arms, rocking him gently.

"Yeah, I dunno how much time I'm gonna wanna spend with him. 'cause he's like you on a bad day. No offense, dude."

"Faith says he's a psychic or something, like he can talk to ghosts in some way…" She said.

"Huh, maybe that's why he's so grumpy. Like he's always got this chorus of ghosts yellin' and tellin' him important stuff in his head. Must be hard to concentrate or relax or whatever." Hurley said.

"There's no such thing as ghosts." 

He glanced back at her, trying to see if they were on the same page. "Okay, but there is."

"No, there's not." Sawyer said, again throwing the ball for Vincent to run after.

"There is, dude, I'm tellin' ya…"

*And I'm telling you, you need to stop readin' Goosebumps or you're gonna get nightmares about other spooky crap that doesn't exist."

"Ghosts are where you draw the line?" She asked before Hurley could continue the immature bickering. "Of all of the impossible things that you've seen on this island, the loopy things you can comprehend- ghosts are too farfetched for you?"

"Yeah, didn't you kill a polar bear on, like, the first day here?"

"Sure did, I saw somethin' that didn't make sense and it's the same with the goddamn smoke monster- I can see it with my eyes. It doesn't matter if it seems crazy to me 'cause I can see it, just like I can see those trees over there. But ghosts? That's the kind of shit I can't see, so I'll be holdin' on to my scepticism, thanks."

"They exist, dude."

"Yeah, I fully believe in ghosts, even though I've never seen one, yet."

"Anything is possible."

Sawyer stood up off of the step with a dramatic groan. "I'm goin' away, you two can have fun drawin' up your own ouija board."

"Oh no dude, you should never mess with ouija boards. Those things are, like, pure evil."

He didn't look back over his shoulder as he walked away. "Duly noted."

She took up his spot on the stair alongside Hurley. "I don't think I'll be rolling the welcome carpet out for Miles anytime soon…"

"Yeah, look, I was just tryin' to be polite or whatever, like choosing my words carefully. But he's the same level of jackass as Sawyer was when we first got here." 

"Oh totally." She said. "Except he doesn't have the benefit of the sexy accent."

He looked at her for a pause. "You think Sawyer's accent is sexy?"

"All I'm sayin' is, we don't have to invite Miles to our next movie night."

"Yeah, what are we gonna watch next? I saw Xanadu in our place."

"Oh my God and I've got Labyrinth, we could have a whole musical night."

"Hell yeah, that sounds awesome." He said. "Movie musical marathon- Charlie would have liked that, don't you think?"

"Uh, I dunno. I don't know about you but I have a _terrible_ singing voice. If he were there, he'd probably judge me." She joked.

He laughed a little before they fell into a comfortable silence. Vincent reappeared, looking to the two of them now that Sawyer was gone. The Labrador brought the tennis ball with him, spitting it out at Hurley's feet.

He gave it a toss, not with the same power Sawyer possessed. It was good enough for Vincent and he tore off after it. She watched the dog's path, her eyes drifting over to the hammock Miles was occupying.

It was the most relaxed she had seen him and she considered that there weren't any ghosts bugging him. She wondered how it worked, how many spirits he had seen since getting to the island. Who had he seen, outside of what she perceived?

* * *

Danielle looked as if she didn't find the chair entirely comfortable, not leaning back. Her eyes were darting around the room, she was reminding Claire of a caged animal and she could sense the tension simmering off of the French woman. But she would smile whenever Claire caught her eye.

Claire thought about how exhausting Danielle's existence must be, how every breath for over a decade had been laboured by her grief. Claire didn't think she could handle such a thing.

Alex was far more settled, stretched out on the couch. She was holding Aaron in her lap, making funny faces at him.

Claire combed carefully through Danielle's hair, hesitating with the scissors in hand. "I don't need to cut a whole lot off if you don't want, I can just trim the ends."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Do what you like, I don't care, it's just hair."

"No, you should leave it long." Alex said, immediately capturing all of Danielle's attention. "I like how it looks."

"Alright, just tidy the ends then."

Claire began to take slow snips at the long hair. "So, how are you liking living here?"

"It's quiet, very quiet."

"Oh, I know, right? I'm not used to it yet either. But I bet you heard all kinds of things while you were living out there, eh?"

"Yes, no more ghosts whispering all night long."

Claire straightened up, meeting Alex's eye. "Ghosts?" Alex didn't look as confused as Claire currently felt. "I thought you said the Others whispered in the jungle."

"There were times when I thought it was them, but now I know it wasn't…"

"Yeah, it's, like, a weird island thing. Sometimes people that die here don't fully move on, or whatever, they've got unfinished business, or something." Alex said. "They haunt the jungle but, like, not in a scary way."

Claire slowly resumed trimming the split ends, considering her words. "So, you guys must believe in ghosts then?"

"I've never seen any, but I've heard lots of other people talking about it and stuff." Alex said.

"What I believed before I came here is entirely different to what I believe now." Danielle said. "I have felt things that I haven't seen and cannot explain."

"Right." Claire got down on her knees, concentrating on getting the length of the hair consistent. "I've always believed in stuff like ghosts, even though I'm in the same boat as you guys, never seen any. I've wanted to though. I guess it's like a comfort thing…"

Charlie popped into her mind, which he often did. She hesitated, momentarily wrapped up in the idea of him being out in the jungle, somewhere between the trees.

"The conversation isn't completely over." Danielle said and Claire wondered who she was thinking about. 

This was something Claire would only be able to guess about, it was far too personal a question. Spending time together was a big enough step toward friendship for them today.

"Exactly."

"Kinda like an imaginary friend, they're never really gone…" Alex said.

Claire combed through the ends of Danielle's hair, satisfied by the lack of resistance. "Nah-yeah, I'd say that's a fair comparison."

Alex laughed in an authentic, non-judgemental way that wasn't typical of teenage girls. "I never know what you mean when you say stuff like that."

"I'm sorry, it's an Aussie thing." Claire said. "Usually the second word is what I mean, so when I say _nah-yeah_ I mean yes and _yeah-nah_ means no. I guess I never realised how weird it is."

"I like it, I wish that I had something unique like that about my vernacular."

"Do you know any French?" Claire asked, fussing over the ends.

“No, they taught us Latin instead.” Alex said.

“Latin?” Danielle repeated.

“Okay, I think I’m done.” Claire said and stood up, brushing through Danielle’s hair a few more times. “What d’ya think?” She gestured over to the mirror mounted on the wall, but Danielle didn’t get up.

The brunette ran a hand through the length of her hair, nodding with a serious look on her face. “Feels better, thanks.”

“Mom, you’ve gotta look at it.” Alex said.

Danielle went over to stand in front of the mirror, her expression was impossible to read. She didn't outwardly appear displeased, which Claire supposed was as much as she could hope for. There was no reason to expect an enthusiastic recreation of a shampoo commercial with an exhaustive amount of hair tosses.

"It looks great." Alex said.

Claire thought of her own mother, teaching her so many different techniques of braiding. Who had helped a younger Alex maintain her long hair? Claire couldn't imagine Ben spending time brushing out all of the knots before each day of the Others equivalent of school. It was difficult for her to imagine him being selflessly kind to another person, possessing any paternal qualities seemed beyond reality.

She lifted Aaron out of Alex’s arms, unable to keep herself from turning her nose up at the smell that travelled with him. “Oh okay, y’know you coulda told me that you needed a nappy change, kid.” She said to the infant.

“We should probably take off anyways, right Mom?” Alex asked.

“Alright.” Danielle said with a stiff nod. “Thank you again Claire.”

“No worries.” 

She watched them leave, sharing a stilted conversation. She shut the door and got to work changing Aaron’s soiled diaper. He was wide awake, wriggling on the ground and she thought he might roll over. It required more patience to attach the nappy securely to him as he kicked his legs out with a new strength.

“There, isn’t that better?” She asked, running a hand over his forehead.

Reaching a hand out, she grabbed a fuzzy bird toy and brought it into his field of vision. She danced it about and his eyes immediately locked on to it. He lifted both of his hands, grabbing for it. This focus delighted her and she was giggling to herself as she moved the toy closer. She tapped his nose with the felt beak of the bird.

A clear smile appeared on his face and she felt warmth balloon in her stomach. This wasn’t her imagining that he kind of looked like he was happy, or a brief flash of a smile. This was an authentic smile, his first.

“Hi handsome.” She said and picked him up, lifting him to her eye level. 

She pressed a kiss to his brow and he reached out for her face, one chubby hand grabbing her cheek. She beamed back at him, unable to believe how beautiful he was.

She thought of her mum again and how Carole didn’t know that she was a grandmother. His eyes were as blue as hers. Claire was sure if Carole was around, she could tell her daughter exactly what she was doing wrong. But Claire wouldn’t get upset, wouldn’t take it personally. It was difficult to feel sad when she had a smiling baby in her arms.

* * *

With Aaron nestled against her, Claire felt ready to fall asleep. Her feet were up and the vinyl armchair was more comfortable than she had anticipated. He was sleeping with a full tummy and he had the fluffy bird resting alongside him.

This tranquility was what Charlie had fought for. He had always said that he wanted to take care of she and Aaron, she appreciated the sentiment but hadn't fully believed he could do it. Now she could enjoy afternoon naps in blissful quiet, allowed time to recharge her batteries.

She was gently stirred when she heard knocking on the door, she held Aaron against her and slowly stood up. Waiting on the small veranda was Sawyer, he seemed to be out of breath and he was again missing a shirt.

"Bloody Hell, Hurley was right, you're literally allergic to shirts."

"The damn dog got mud all over my shirt, it stinks. Jeez, maybe the stink would offend you less, excuse me."

She laughed to herself as she wandered back into the living room. "I didn't say I was offended, I just…" She glanced back over her shoulder, but looked away before he could catch her out. "It's your trademark, I guess. Where is Vincent anyway?"

"Karl has 'im, said he was gonna give him a bath." He went down the hall, going into the bedroom. "I wanted to check on you, make sure you hadn't spooked yourself too much with all of that ghost crap this morning."

She smiled. "I'm just fine, I only believe in friendly ghosts, like Casper."

"Really?" He reappeared, buttoning up a clean shirt she couldn't recall seeing him wear before. "Are you tryin' to tell me that you weren't drawing pentagrams on the ground and tryin' to communicate with demons while you were runnin' around with that gothie black hair?"

"I'll summon a demon to shut you up." She said in an exaggerated stage whisper. "Did you just, uh, have that shirt here?"

"Nah, I had an inkling that the freak who used to live here was the same size as me and, I was right. Whaddya think, is it my colour?"

She considered the burnt orange fabric. "Yeah. It really brings out your eyes."

"You've always got somethin' to say back, don't ya? You're not as shy and quiet and agreeable as everyone thinks you are." He said, going into the kitchen. "You're not scared of me, huh?"

"Why would I be scared of you? It's not like you're an aggressive boar, you're just a guy with an attitude." She said as he helped himself to some of the jelly in her fridge.

"So you're done with the ghost stuff now or is Hugo coming over later for a séance?"

"I don't have any séances or demon summonings planned. But I dunno if I'll be done with the idea of ghosts. It's just…" She shrugged. "A comfort thing. Either you get it or you don't."

He sat upon the kitchen counter. "You don't think that's hypocritical?" She raised her eyebrows, certain he was goading her. "You talk about all this _carpe diem_ junk, but don't you reckon that thinkin' 'bout ghosts is keeping you stuck in the past? Seems to me you're talkin' somethin' that you're not walkin'."

She kept herself from immediately saying something back, instead taking a pause to consider this perspective he was presenting her with. She had been so caught up in her daydreams.

She began to nod. "I guess you're not entirely wrong but…" He sat up a little straighter at that. "I dunno, it's something that I've believed in for a really long time and I-... I just…"

“Nah, I get it. He’s always gonna be your unfinished business.” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” She said. “Wow, I just got called out, huh?”

“Taste of your own medicine babydoll.”

Before she could produce a retort, an angry shout came in from the open window. His demeanor immediately became serious and he strode out of the kitchen. She hesitated before following him to check out through the curtains.

Her alertness faded when she saw that it was just Miles, with Vincent hanging around him. There was absolutely no reason to panic, she happily noted as she shifted Aaron from one arm to the other. It was just the perpetually annoyed newcomer indulging in another dummy spit. He was cutting apart a fruit (it looked like a grapefruit to her) to eat while Vincent walked in circles around Miles, greatly interested in what he was doing.

“Shoo! Go on, get your wet shit-smelling butt away from me.” He said, waving his arms in some grand gestures that didn’t seem to worry Vincent in the slightest.

"Well, there goes the neighbourhood." Sawyer said as Karl rushed onto the scene.

Miles had tossed a portion of the grapefruit a few feet away, giving him a brief break as Vincent ran off to eat it. Karl had Vincent's leash in hand and set about wrangling the dog as Miles continued ranting. 

His voice was no longer loud enough for them to hear, but Sawyer remained by the window. He was keeping track of the situation, ready to jump in should Karl need any help. She was sure Sawyer would never admit it, but he was clearly developing a soft spot for the teenager, taking him under his wing.

She found her interest waning and she turned away from the front of the house. She walked down the hall, putting Aaron down in his draw. He didn’t stir, not noticing the transfer out of her arms. She tucked the bird toy in the area beside him.

“So what’re you makin’ me for dinner?” She asked, observing Sawyer from a distance, leaning against the wall.

He laughed sarcastically, looking away from the window. “Pardon me?”

* * *

A classic beef stroganoff, it was a recipe Claire had waited for her mum to make every winter. Living independently, it was a dish that she could pull together and would feel rich while eating it, no matter how many days overdue her electricity bill was.

Sawyer hadn't eaten it before and she was determined to right this wrong. But she refused to do it on her own, coaxing him into the kitchen and a frilly apron she had found in the house.

They were teasing one another as they always did, the atmosphere in the room light and playful. But she was aware that she was giggling more than usual. There were less low blows and he had reached out to tickle her hip more than once. She thought she might have been behaving differently if someone else were around to observe this interaction.

She picked up a bottle of Worcestershire sauce, inspecting it before daring to open it. "Are you supposed to shake Worcestershire sauce? I can't remember…"

"You're askin' me?" He asked from his spot in front of the stove, stirring the contents of the pan that was sitting on an active hot plate.

"Yeah, I'm gonna make a decent _sous_ chef outta you, mark my words."

"A what now?"

" _Sous_ chef." She repeated, ensuring to enunciate as much as possible. "It's French, it means _under_ , so it's like the second in command, the Spock of the kitchen, if you will."

"So, I'm under you?"

"Yeah, most definitely." She said and decided she had shaken the bottle enough, beginning to carefully unscrew the cap.

"Y'know usually, I don't like being under a woman."

She rolled her eyes, faking a few barks of laughter. "Yup, I get it, sex, very clever, truly, you're a comic genius."

She added some dashes of the dark sauce into the mixture, doing her best to guess at the correct amount. When screwing the lid back on, some of the liquid dripped onto her palm. She reached out for the closest thing to wipe her hand on, his apron. She wiped it onto the fabric covering his chest without asking.

“Can I help you there sweetheart?”

“Nah, nah, it’s fine now.” She shrugged.

“I think you’re actually the one who needs the apron.” He said and began to undo the tie at the small of his back. “You’ve been makin’ more mess than me.” He removed it from around his neck. “Do you _sous_ stand that?”

He placed the apron over her head and, even though she still felt giddy, she found there wasn’t much to laugh about anymore. He put his arms around her to tie the loose strings at her waist and she could only think about how much of his body heat she could currently feel.

Their eyes met and she wanted to say something to break the tension, but she couldn’t think anything up. Why was this so different to when he spooned her in bed? Why did her cheeks feel so hot?

His eyes briefly flicked down to her lips and she felt her heart jump into her throat. She licked her lips, revelling in this feeling of being desired. She tilted her head back and his nose bumped against hers. She opened her mouth, a breathless moment passing between them.

Then the shrill ring of the egg-timer filled the room and they jumped apart as if shocked by a jolt of electricity.

“Okay, that stuff is ready to come off of the boil, so I’ll just, uh…” She turned her attention back to the stove, turning the dial to kill the heat in the hot plate.

“Claire, I shouldn’t’ve- I’m sorry, that won’t-...”

“Sorry for what?” She was trying to play it off, acting like she was oblivious to the line they had almost crossed. But she could hear how high her voice had gotten, far from a relaxed tone. “Nothing happened. Hey, do me a favour and grab me out one of the Tupperware containers? They’re in the bottom of the pantry.” She nodded in the general direction, with him going to the door. “Yeah, awesome. I wanna give some of this to Miles.”

He froze in his tracks, looking at her with a deeply furrowed brow. “Did I just stroke out for a second or did you say that you’re gonna give food to Miles?”

“I have a theory that maybe he’ll be less grumpy once he has a decent meal in his tummy. He’s stuck here like the rest of us, we should at least try to be civil.”

“That’s quite the turnaround since, uh, this morning. Are you sure you’re not tryin’ to befriend him to get access to his ghostie powers?”

“Positive. You see, I’m quite happy to extend kindness without immediately expecting to get something back from the person.” She said, beginning to serve up the cooked pasta. “Now, do you want your pasta separated from the meat or are you happy for it to get mixed together?”

“What am I, a three year old? Mix it all together.” He said.

“Okay, I wasn’t gonna judge if you wanted everything in its own neat sections.” She said. “That’s how I ate my food until I was about sixteen, you can-...”

“I don’t have to stay here tonight if it’s gonna make it weird or somethin’. I should probably go back to my place, got all my crap there anyways…”

“Alright, if that’s what you wanna do, I mean, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m more used to the house now and everything.” She said and he nodded awkwardly. “Is that really all of the green beans you’re gonna have?”

“I wanted to make sure there would still be some left over for Miles.”

* * *

After dinner, Claire put Aaron in the baby sling and walked out the front door with Sawyer. They shared an awkward goodbye, each trying to find the right words to say and failing, mostly they just shrugged. She didn’t look back over her shoulder as he left for Gordie’s old house.

She set off across the courtyard, heading for the house that had been Ben's. This time she felt less nervous.

She knocked on the door and faced Miles with her most hospitable smile. He didn't fully open the door and looked at her suspiciously, she thought a fair amount of time and effort would be required before he returned her smile.

"Hi, we haven't properly been introduced or anything and I wanted to fix that, my name is Claire and I made beef stroganoff for dinner, thought you might like some." She extended the plastic container to him. 

He hesitated, looking at her offering with raised eyebrows. "So you're the whole Welcome Wagon?"

"We've been through a lot here, like every other day is an actual waking nightmare. Everyone's a little worse for wear right now, especially when it comes to trusting so give them time, but they'll warm up to you." She said. "I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I'd say my Welcome Wagon is better than what you got from John Locke, who, by the way, doesn't speak for all of us, we don't exactly have elected officials."

"Yeah, I've gotta agree with you on that one." He said, finally taking the Tupperware from her. His face softened, it wasn't a smile, but it wasn't a scowl either. "Uh, thanks. I'll bring this back when I'm finished with it."

"Yeah, no worries." She rocked back on her feet, but stopped herself from walking away just yet. "Next time Vincent comes over to bug you, don't give him any grapefruit. It’s really bad for dogs, okay?"

He shrugged a shoulder, not wanting to seem like he cared. "Sure, whatever."

She wondered if he was currently seeing any ghosts. If he was being distracted by any paranormal apparitions, then he was doing a good job of ignoring them.

Did he know what Charlie's voice sounded like?

"Did you wanna come in and, like, watch me eat it or something?"

She laughed this off. "Sorry, baby brain, I feel like I was gonna say something but- Nah, nevermind, it probably wasn't important. If it is, it'll come back to me, so I'll just see you 'round."

He was clearly judging her, looking at her with raised eyebrows. "Okay, see ya…"

She left without saying another word and was back in her home before Aaron awoke, before the nightly rain began. She sat down on the couch, the smell of beef stroganoff strong in the air. As she was engulfed in the silence, she began to notice just how many shadows were gathering in this room.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to go so long without updating this, I just kinda fell out of the habit and got distracted by other things...

Claire moved quickly as she set out of her house the next morning. She needed to get out of the rain and her nerves were keeping her from walking at a relaxed speed. Aaron was grouchy, fussing a little in her arms. He was protesting something that hadn't happened yet and she could have taken this as an excuse to return to her isolation. But she wouldn't be able to put this situation behind her without addressing it first.

It had been a restless night, her thoughts racing. Everything had changed between she and Sawyer. It was less of a question of what she could do, instead she needed to determine what she wanted to do.

There had been nothing wrong with the dynamic they had been building. It was a friendship she had never anticipated, but found herself enjoying immensely. He was complicated and clearly liked to make trouble. In her mind, it was an equal mix of positives and negatives.

But he had tried to kiss her and she had wanted him to. A possibility she hadn't allowed herself to entertain before his initiation.

This was a path she could easily follow. Things had been falling into place for them, so effortless that she had barely noticed. They were spending more time together and more often than not sharing a bed. The intimacy seemed innocent, nothing that needed to be labelled. It felt like an extension of their friendship.

Until it wasn't. Until it was butterflies in her stomach and keeping an internal list of which nickname she liked best of all those he had gifted her. 

Now she was wondering. Wondering what he tasted like. Wondering how it would feel to have her bare skin pressed against his. Wondering how all of that fiery attitude could translate into passion.

Her mind was still in a fog of indecision when she arrived at his doorstep, reaching out to knock. She heard one quick bark from Vincent before the door was opened by Sawyer.

“Mornin’ Blondie, what are you sellin’ today? A new vacuum cleaner that’s gonna change my life?”

“Yeah right, like you’ve ever cleaned anything in your life.” She said as she stepped into the house.

Hurley’s head poked out of the kitchen, smiling at her. “Hey Claire, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No.”

“Awesome, ‘cause you’re just in time for my world famous French toast fingers.”

“You sayin’ they’re world famous isn’t convincing anybody.” Sawyer called back. “Look at her face, she has no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I’m not intrigued. Is that when you cut the bread into three long slices?”

“Yeah man, it makes them so much easier to dip into the syrup.”

"Dip?" Sawyer looked more confused than before. "You drizzle the syrup over the toast."

"Yikes.* She said. "We need to talk about that." She dropped the exaggerated grimace as she turned to him. "And some other stuff too."

"Alright, you wanna go out the back?"

"Sure thing. Can you hold Aaron for me?" She asked and he hesitated. "He's been really grumpy this morning, until he heard your voice. You've still got the magic."

He took the infant without any further complaints, Aaron looking up at him. She followed him out the backdoor, stepping onto the back porch.

“I missed you last night and not just because your voice is soothing to Aaron.” She said, leaving her jokey tone behind. “I really like having you around.” He met her eye and she looked away, looking at the tree-lined horizon was easier than making eye-contact with him. “You make me laugh and you make me feel better and when you’re around I feel safe, which is such a big deal. It’s like, when you’re around I can breathe properly and I can feel normal and just  _ blah _ , relax, y’know? And sleeping through the night, I literally never thought I’d sleep so well after the crash.”

"I slept like shit last night, guess I missed you too. Not just ‘cause you and the kid are so cute. You’re the perfect size to spoon.”

She smiled but looked away almost as soon as their eyes met. “I’m not mad that you tried to kiss me.”

He stiffened. “It was dumb, I wasn’t thinking. It’s not gonna happen again.”

“Oh. I wasn’t going to say that, I don’t think that would be the worst thing in the world… I was surprised in the moment, but I would’ve kissed you back, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Well, that changes things. I woulda guessed that’d be the last thing on your mind, ‘cause you’ve already got so much on your plate.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be a big deal, it doesn’t have to be the kind of thing that takes up a lot of space on my plate or whatever. Sometimes a kiss can just be a kiss.”

“Really?” He asked and she was beginning to wonder if he had neglected to visit her because he had been preoccupied by spending the night talking himself out of progressing them to something more than friendship. “Even with everything that you’ve been through lately?”

“If you mean Charlie…”

“You’re damn right I mean Charlie.” He paused and threw a cautious glance over his shoulder. It seemed that they were safe from Hurley overhearing any of this conversation, with the backdoor remaining shut behind them. “You’ve got photos of him next to your bed and everyone knows how intense things were between the two of you. You mean to tell me that you’re done crying over him and you’re movin’ on from him?”

“I don’t exactly have a set date for when I’m gonna stop being sad and stop missing him. But maybe I’m cold-hearted because I feel like I’ve already gotten to acceptance, it doesn’t mean it stops hurting, it just hurts less. If you want, I could dress all in black and be more withdrawn, y’know, to really fit that role of the mourning widow. But I’m not his widow, I’m not even his ex-girlfriend and you know why? Because all I did was wait. I waited and waited with Charlie and now he’s gone and things that I wanted to have with him, I’ll never get to experience. I’m here, never knowing what me and him truly could’ve become.

“If you want, we can keep waiting, waiting for what polite society would call the correct amount of time. If that’s what you would like, but for me- Maybe I’m done waiting.” She said before extending her hands to Sawyer. “Can I have my son back? I wanna get him inside, out of this chill.”

With Aaron in her arms, she turned around, ready to leave the porch. Before she could take her first step, Sawyer reached out, placing an arm across her front as he held her bicep. She stopped, looking up at him and feeling like she wanted to stay here for a while longer.

“You’re too pretty to be wearin’ nothin’ but black and crying all the time…” He said, leaning in closer. “But I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“So, don’t.”

Before he could get any closer to finally closing the gap between the two of them, a shout came from inside the house. “Come and get it, dudes!”

She smiled, amused by the interruption. He let go of her and gestured for the door. “Ladies first.”

* * *

Aaron's mood had entirely improved during the single hour they had been visiting Gordie's old house; he had happily settled against Claire’s front, allowing her to eat her breakfast without issue.

"Do you see what I am talking about now dude?"

Sawyer was nodding, wearing a smile as he finished off his last mouthful. "I never said it wasn't gonna be a good breakfast, I just said that they aren't world famous…"

"They should be though." She said, raising her glass of orange juice in a toast.

"You encourage him too much."

"Alright, you do better then."

"Yeah, you should make dinner tonight." Hurley said. "Make it somethin' you think should be world famous and we'll, like, judge it."

"Yeah, then the shoe can be on the other foot. Or the oven mitt can be on the other hand, definitely not on the foot, yuck." 

A knock on the door got Sawyer to his feet and the voices of Alex and Karl floated into the house. "Come in for a sec', I gotta get a bottle of water…"

"It smells great in here, were you guys having breakfast?" Alex asked.

"Hey Claire, can I grab you for a minute, just in the kitchen?" Sawyer asked.

She rose out of her chair, shifting her hold on Aaron as she went. "You need help filling a bottle with water, eh?"

He lowered his voice. "Listen, keep Alex occupied, okay? Offer to paint her toenails or braid her hair or whatever girls do. Just make it an offer she can't refuse."

"Why?"

He glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the dining room, there was a swell of conversation coming from the trio. "She's stronger and faster than Karl and it's embarrassing for him, it discourages him and we get next to nothin' done. I'm trying to train the kid here and his girl is running circles around him."

"Ah yes, the fragility of the male ego." She said. "I know it well. Not as well as you, but that's besides the point…"

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked, voice rising in his surprise.

"Don't worry about it." She said and turned away, heading back to the dining room. "I got your back darl'."

"Are you tryin' to say that-...?"

"Hey Alex." Claire addressed the teenager who was standing by the table, helping herself to some pieces of fruit. "How much do you know about astrology?"

Alex cocked her head to the side. "Uh, I know that I'm an aries."

"That makes total sense. How 'bout I do your birth chart for you? It's like a map to your inner psyche."

"That sounds pretty cool." Karl said. "You should do that."

"Yeah, that sounds like fun. But you and me were gonna work out together and…"

"Yeah, but that'll be super boring." Sawyer said.

"I literally can't imagine anything more boring." Hurley said.

"Okay, I'll just go with you guys next time." Alex said with a shrug.

Karl pecked her on the cheek before heading for the door with Sawyer. Karl stepped outside first with Sawyer looking back over his shoulder as he shut the door. He caught Claire's eye and winked, a secret exclusively between the two of them.

"Did you have breakfast yet? 'cause I could whip you up some of my world famous French toast fingers."

Alex took up one of the chairs at the table. "What is it about them that makes them world famous?"

* * *

"So astrology, that's cool and interesting and junk…" Hurley said. "You sure seem to know a lot about it too."

Claire glanced up from gathering the numerous pages she had spread across the dining table. She couldn't immediately identify the expression on his face and so returned her attention back to cleaning up the mess. She had gotten carried away when compiling Alex's birth chart, jotting down as much information as she could. One tangent had bled into another but Alex had listened, nodding along to Claire's enthusiastic explanations.

Alex had just left and Claire was satisfied she had kept the teen busy for long enough. 

"Yeah, it's something that you either get or you don't. It's just always made sense to me and it's actually really accurate. There was one point in my life where I thought it could be my job, but I never quite got there, and now… well, y'know…"

"What kind of jobs are there in astrology?"

"I'd like to write books about it, go beyond the whole cheesy horoscope in the newspaper kinda thing." 

With all of the pages neatly collected, she sat down. Aaron's cushioned basket was placed on the table and he slept soundly, one hand curled up at his cheek.

"Is that what you and Sawyer have been doing at your, like, sleepovers? Birth charts?"

"Not so much, he thinks it's all a bunch of hippie dippie nonsense. We always just sleep."

"Except for last night." He said and she looked up to where he seemed to be watching her carefully.

She nodded awkwardly. "Right, except for last night." She drummed her fingers on the table. "Is there something that you wanna ask me Hurley? 'cause you know that you can just ask me, right? I won't get offended or angry or anything."

He looked down for a moment. "Uh, nah, it's not, like, any of my business or anything that he's crashing in your spare room."

"Actually it's not the spare room, we sleep in the same bed."

He hesitated with his mouth open, appearing to do some mental math. "Oh, so are you guys, like dating or something?"

"There isn't really places to go on dates around here, y'know." She said with a shrug, failing to make him laugh. "I don't know what kind of label to give you, we're friends and maybe there's something more there but it's too soon to tell, I guess I'm just taking it one day at a time. Nothing here is ever really guaranteed so why not enjoy what's happening now until the next bad thing happens…"

"I just didn't see it coming, but this ranks pretty low on the list of crazy stuff that's happened since we got here."

"Should I have told you sooner? I was worried it'd make things weird, I dunno why…"

He smiled. "Nah, don't worry about it dude. No one deserves to be lonely."

"And someone's gotta help me with the dirty nappies."

He snorted sarcastically. "Sure, that'll be the day."

"I dunno, I think if I had enough time I'd be able to give him some skills beyond, y'know, being good with guns and sarcasm."

"Do you reckon we'll be here long enough for you to reprogram him like that? You don't think rescue is, like, imminent?"

"It's hard to say but I'm trying to quit putting all my faith in it. Been let down one too many times." She said. "I kinda try not to think about it. Where we are right now is pretty nice. This is the longest I've ever gone without worrying about money, that's not half bad by me."

"But they've got Sayid down there…"

"Nah-yeah, you've got me there. I don't plan on losing faith in him."

Vincent's bark got their attention a few seconds before the front door opened and Sawyer burst in, out of breath but looking excited.

"We found somethin', out in the jungle."

"Aw crap dude, not again."

"Deja-vu, eh?"

"No, no, no, somethin' good." He breezed past them, heading for the kitchen. "A Dharma food drop."

"Oh, sweet. How long has it been out there?" Hurley asked.

Sawyer returned to the dining room, drinking from a water bottle. "I don't know, it wasn't there when me and the kid were out runnin' yesterday. You wanna help us bring it back? We need all the hands we can get."

"Really?" She asked as Hurley got up, going to collect his shoes. "You're not gonna attach it to Karl with a rope and make him drag it all the way back here unassisted, to prove his manliness?"

Sawyer chuckled. "Nah, maybe if I hadn't gotten him to lift so many weights today. I gotta take it easy on him for the rest of the day."

"Alright dude, I'm ready."

"We're gonna pick out the best stuff for ourselves but we'll leave plenty for the people back at the beach."

"How do they know about it?" Hurley asked.

"They don't but I'm gonna get it to 'em tomorrow." Sawyer said before looking to Claire. "Any requests from the shop sweetheart?"

"Cheese and tea."

"Done, see ya in a bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that BLACK LIVES MATTER today, tomorrow and every single day


End file.
